In Separate Stars
by SanctuaryInMusic
Summary: Who would've thought that the playful antics and joy of a mischievous Spirit of Winter was what the Guardians needed all along? And it turns out that he needed them, too. / / A collection of short stories, drabbles, and arcs, all centering on the imperfectly perfect family that Jack and the Guardians have become. Requests are welcome, no pairings. (Formerly Because We're Family)
1. Put On a Show

**A/N: **So I decided to put up my own collection of one-shots (sort of inspired by **MugetsuPipefox's **_amazing _collection, titled _Miles to Go Before I Sleep_), and **I do accept requests. **Just tell me what you want to hear, and I'll do my best to write it up and post it ASAP!

Now, enjoy! :3

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**Put On a Show**

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**Chapter Summary: **Bunny had never realized what sort of feelings Jack hid behind his mask of smiles.

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Bunny never liked seeing Jack like this.

When the winter spirit would show up to the monthly Guardian meetings, he would smile and laugh and joke with Sandy as usual, but Bunny could see the sadness in Jack's ice-blue eyes. It was always there, though sometimes it faded when he was having fun with the others.

True, Bunny wasn't the kid's best friend, but even _he _could tell that something was bothering Jack. Whenever Bunny asked, though, Jack would wave it off with a flippant "I'm fine, Cottontail! I'm not a kid, sheesh!"

It had been a few months since Pitch was sent back crawling to where he had come from, and Jack had easily slipped in with the other Guardians. It had come to the point that it was customary to feel a chillier-than-usual breeze blowing through the Warren, adoring chirps and a garbled voice, an exuberant laugh soon followed by a loud crash . . . the list went on and on.

Bunny couldn't really remember what it had been like before Jack became a Guardian. He wondered whether that was a good or bad thing, if the impish winter spirit was what the four Guardians of Childhood needed all along.

Like North had responded when Sophie Bennett had accidentally invaded the Warren, they were admittedly much too busy bringing happiness to the children. They never had time for the lights they were trying to protect.

Jack had changed that.

The newly dubbed "Guardian of Fun" brought smiles onto all of their faces, unknowingly burrowing himself into each of their hearts, and letting them act like the Guardians they really were . . . for Jack was still a child, no matter how many times he tried to deny it.

Tooth gently reminded the boy to brush his teeth and floss, as always, but Bunny had spotted her coming in to Jack's room when he actually decided to stay at the Pole to wish him a goodnight, even when he was already sleeping.

Sandy went out of his way to bring Jack good dreams the few times Jack would actually _be_ asleep. And Bunny suspected that the two worked together to throw him in his purple dye river about a month ago. Since then, Tooth and North knew to avoid the duo at all costs when they got that identical evil look in their eyes.

As for North, he always let one of the windows open at the Pole, an open invitation for Jack to walk (or more accurately, _fly_) in. The winter spirit's input of all the things that the children of the world liked was a great help, since Christmas was due to roll around in about two months.

Bunny noticed that Jack was always smiling and playing pranks. It annoyed the Pooka to no end when Jack's gleeful intentions were usually for _him, _but Bunny always managed to Jack back sooner or later.

It usually took a while to plan out, but they always hit their intended target. And ended up with Jack sulking for a week or two before retaliating.

Jack's attendance record to Guardian meetings was a little spotty, as he arrived early to some and appallingly late to others, but he had never failed to make one yet. It was clear to everyone that Jack wanted to prove that he could handle the responsibility, even with the other job as the Spirit of Winter that he was saddled with.

But one day, Jack failed to show up for a Guardian meeting at all.

* * *

"Where's Jack, anyways?" Bunny grumbled, annoyedly flicking a paintbrush back and forth.

"He's probably still coming," Tooth reasoned, before speaking another order to one of the mini-fairies that perpetually surrounded her. "You know that he can get really busy sometimes."

Bunny thought about that for a moment. It was true that Jack Frost was a mischievous spirit, but it was also true that he was the most determined person to do his job (well, _jobs,_ now) right. Bunny could tell that balancing his duty as the Spirit of Winter and the newest Guardian of Childhood really put a huge strain on the kid.

Though immortals didn't need to sleep as much as humans did, it didn't mean that they didn't _want _or _need _to. Jack had admitted to Bunny in a drowsy haze one day that he hadn't gone to sleep for a week, to which the Pooka had immediately commanded the boy to lie down at the Pole.

Jack had protested, saying that there were still a few more areas that needed snowstorms, but Bunny put his foot down. "You might lose control of the blizzard if you're not at 100%," he had said.

The boy blinked up at him for a few moments, then reluctantly conceded, making his unsteady way to his room, with a reminder to Bunny to wake him up in a few hours.

Bunny agreed, then left the boy to sleep for a few days.

Though Bunny didn't like to admit it, Jack _could_ be considered the busiest out of all the Guardians, with two equally stressful jobs to balance.

And so the four Guardians sat in the room in front of the fireplace, waiting patiently for their youngest to join them.

* * *

A week had passed since the busted meeting. Jack hadn't shown up, which obviously irritated the short-tempered Guardian of Hope. Tooth, Sandy, and North had been worried, but they each went back to doing their own work.

Easter wasn't for another few months, so Bunny was saddled with locating the elusive winter spirit.

Finding the boy huddled in a ball under a pile of leaves in the woods of Burgess wasn't what he was expecting, though.

_"Jack?"_ Bunny said, alarmed, reaching down to clear the pile of leaves off the unmoving Guardian of Fun. "C'mon, mate, what's wrong?"

Broken blue eyes seemed to glow when closed eyelids fluttered open. "Bunny?" Jack rasped, slowly sitting up. Dead brown leaves and a light dusting of snowflakes were clinging to his blue cotton hoodie and the hood that covered his head.

The sadness in Jack's eyes had never been more pronounced than they were now. It worried him.

"Where were you?" Bunny demanded, his worry for the other making him slip into accusation mode. "You missed the last meeting!"

"I did?" Jack mumbled, leaning on the tree trunk behind him. "Sorry," he said, sounding like he didn't really care at all.

Bunny watched in horror as he realized the boy's normally cheerful face was completely devoid of emotion. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Jack was . . . was _dead. _His eyes were hollow and empty-looking as he gazed past Bunny and at something only he could see.

"Jack?" Bunny asked again, softer this time. "What's wrong?"

Jack hiccuped, and buried his face into his hands. "I killed them," he whispered, beginning to tremble. "They're dead because of me."

"Who, Jack?"

"The people in that city," Jack said, somehow getting even smaller. "They couldn't see me, and I couldn't help them. Children are _dead_ because of me."

Bunny frowned. "Was this the storm you spread over—"

"Yeah." Jack lifted his head up and placed it on his knees, much like a child would. "I would understand if you hate me now."

Bunny had never felt worse for the boy sitting in front of him now. He was so young, saddled with a job that brought death to those who couldn't afford to keep warm in Jack's season. And a terrible thought then ran through Bunny's mind: _How many deaths has Jack seen in three hundred years? How many times has he sat, _alone_, crying because of the guilt he felt?_

"Jack . . ." Bunny said, reaching out a paw to place on the winter spirit's thin shoulder. "Hey, it's not your fault."

Tears began to well in the boy's eyes. Before Bunny had gotten to really know Jack, this might have caused the Pooka some vindictive satisfaction, but now it only made sorrow pulse in his heart.

"It isn't your fault," Bunny repeated firmly. "Those people could have been hurt a lot worse than what you put them through. Letting them pass peacefully through sleep was the best thing you could've done."

". . . I guess," Jack whispered feebly. Then he laughed quietly, though there was no humor to it. "Sorry that you have to see me like this. I can usually get through this on my own."

"You don't have to be alone, Jack," Bunny said, standing up and pulling Jack to his feet as well. "We're always with you. North, Tooth, Sandy, and me . . . you can always come to us when you need help."

And Jack's responding, hesitant smile lit up his blue eyes and made the sadness in them disappear.

Because Bunny knew (and he knew that Jack knew this as well) that that obstacle had been overcome; the shield over his heart had finally been cracked.

There was no need to pretend anymore.

No need to put on another show.

"Now, let's get back to the Pole," Bunny said, tapping his foot on the snowy ground. "I'm freezin'!"

"But it's cold there, too," Jack pointed out with an impish grin, leaning down to pick up his staff.

"Oi! Shut up!"

And the two Guardians jumped in the burrow, one laughing happily as the other let a reluctant smile slip onto his face.


	2. Distortion

**A/N: **This was pretty much based off of a wordless comic that I found on Pinterest. (And Pinterest is wonderful, don't tell me it isn't!) The feelings in me that I had when I viewed the drawings made me want to cry so hard, and so I adapted it into word form. And basically killed myself a thousand times over from the feels. I wasn't able to find the original artist of the comic, so if someone does, can you tell me?

So this is what I thought of when **13BlueBananas **said "something angsty." I'm pretty sure this counts as angsty. xD And I've also inserted some of **lalaladybug**'s request in here. Hope you both find it satisfactory!

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**Distortion**

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**Chapter Summary: **Jack gets a nightmare, and Bunny puts aside his pride to console him.

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Jack reached out to his sister, plastering a shaky smile onto his face. "It's okay, it's okay," he found himself murmuring, though he wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or to his terrified little sister. "Don't look down, just look at me."

"Jack, I'm scared!" she sobbed, tears welling in her beautiful brown eyes. The ice under her skates was slowly cracking as she trembled.

They had been ice skating, and Jack felt so _stupid._ He should've checked the ice before letting the two of them on. And now they could die because of his carelessness.

"I know, I know," Jack soothed, gingerly taking a step forward. "But you're gonna be all right. You're not going to fall in." Jack racked his mind to think of something else to say, something to placate the frightened girl that meant the world to him.

"We're going to have a little fun, instead!" he said triumphantly, spreading out his arms to retain his balance. Jack was normally a very balanced person by nature, but it was proving a struggle to stay upright on ice. Though he wished that he had his skates on so that he could easily stand up, he was thankful that he had removed them earlier so they wouldn't weigh him down as much.

But his sister quickly banished the notion of "fun" from her head. "No, we're not!" she cried, her small hands clenching into fists.

"Would I trick you?" Jack replied playfully, attempting to keep a light air.

"Yes! You always play tricks!" she countered. Mentally, Jack wished whomever his little sister married luck (though it would take a long, _long_ process to determine if the boy met Jack's approval and standards) in dealing with her stubbornness, and her shrewd ability to win arguments even at the youngish age of eight.

So Jack chuckled at this—he had to give her that. "Yes, well, but not this time," he said, taking a few small steps closer to his sister. "I promise, I promise, you're going to be . . . you're going to be fine. You have to believe in me."

Jack then smiled, a brilliant idea appearing in his mind. He would turn this all into a game, and he would somehow find a sturdier section of ice. Then, he would reach out for her with his staff. It was foolproof! Jack took a step forward, wincing when it cracked under his feet, but he pretended to lose his balance to distract his sister from noticing.

And when he reached three, the ice that he stepped on was smooth, sturdy, and _safe._

"Now it's your turn," Jack said, reaching out to his sister with the staff he had discarded when they had first started skating.

"One . . ." he counted, inching ever-so-slowly forward with the hook of the staff in front of him. His sister made frightened little gasps with each step she took. The ice was cracking even more. _Almost there, almost there! _

"T—"

The loudest crack sounded. It pierced the still air, along with Jack's chest. For one heart-stopping moment, Jack locked eyes with his sister as the ice collapsed underneath her, a fearful shriek ripping from her throat.

And then she fell into the cold water below.

Jack stood there, stunned, for about half a second, but he didn't waste the other half by springing forward, his sister's name on his lips:

_"EMMA!"_

* * *

Pitch Black relished in the fear and terror washing off of Jack Frost in waves. A cruel grin twisted his lips as he raised a long, thin, gray finger and pressed it onto the Guardian's pale cheek, feeling the salty teardrops that were streaming down his pale face.

The boy was whimpering the most beautiful cries, lying there on that tree branch. The tears were already beginning to freeze on Jack Frost's flesh, and Pitch removed his finger, examining the frozen teardrop that had formed on the tip. He grinned once more, feeling the ice already start to melt between his fingertips.

He sighed, that evil smirk still etched on his features.

"What a beautiful nightmare . . ." Pitch crooned, before dissolving, once more, into the shadows.

* * *

Bunny jerked awake to the sound of screaming.

He blinked a few times, disoriented, in the darkness of his burrow, then grabbed the closest boomerang. The voice had sounded strangely like Jack, but Bunny didn't remember the boy stopping by last night. Nevertheless, there was something _wrong _going on in his Warren and he was going to investigate.

The anguished screams continued. With his sensitive ears, he detected that the screams were actually _words. _The same words, repeated over and over—

"No! Emma!"

Bunny clenched his weapon tighter and stepped into the brightness of the meadow. Now that he was outside, he realized that the voice _was _Jack's. Was Emma the name of one of the children that died in that snowstorm? To Bunny's sorrow, the boy still beat himself up over any deaths, though Bunny and the other Guardians had told him time and time again that _it wasn't his fault._

Bunny ran to where Jack's voice was coming from, though he already had an inkling to where the kid could be. Jack had slept in the same tree so many times that his natural chill made the leaves fall from the ground, leaving the branches bare, so it was easy to spot amidst all the green.

"Hey. Frostbite," Bunny called, panicked at the tears streaming down the youngest Guardian's face. "_Jack._ Wake up!" he said more forcefully, shaking the thin body.

Jack's cries seemed to get even harder as he trembled, curling into a ball. But he was still trapped in whatever nightmare that had appeared to him. So Bunny had to use a last resort.

E. Aster Bunnymund, 6'1", master of tai-chi, Guardian of Hope, and last survivor of the Pookas . . . reached up to grab Jack and hold him in his arms until the tears started to subside.

Because hey—no one would know about this.

Jack was starting to become the little brother Bunny hadn't had in a _long _time, and Bunny would always try to make sure the kid was all right.

. . . Even if Jack froze his ears every month.

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**Guest Responses:**

**lalaladybug**: Well, here's your request! How'd you like it? I've always loved the idea of having a one-shot series, but never had the courage to post one, since there were already _so _many good ones out there. And then I saw **MugetsuPipefox**'s _Miles to Go Before I Sleep_ . . . and little plot bunnies started to churn out. xD


	3. What's in a Name?

**A/N: **I'm really surprised at myself—how am I writing these so quickly? But that goes to show how excited I am over these . . . and how much procrastinating I'm doing with schoolwork. xP

And you people are lovely. Thank you for leaving me all those kind reviews and the follows and favorites!

This section of the story is a bit lighter compared to the previous two . . . I thought you all needed a break from all the angst, so here's a nice chapter full of fluffies. :3

So the "names have power" thing mentioned later was kinda inspired by Greek and Egyptian mythology (cough, cough, Percy Jackson and the Kane Chronicles, cough, cough), but the name bonds were something I just came up with. And as for Jack's middle name, I just Googled "colonial male names" and picked the one I liked best. :)

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**What's in a Name?**

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**Chapter Summary: **Jack remembers some more of his past, and as a result, he learns some more about his teammates.

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"Jackson Isaac Overland," Jack said one day, testing it out.

The name had appeared to him in a memory dream one day (he'd been getting them every once in a while after he'd viewed the memories from his baby teeth), and he still couldn't wrap his head around it. The name was so _right,_ but it sounded completely foreign at the same time.

"Jackson Isaac Overland Frost."

Jack frowned and sat up in his bed at the Pole, mulling over it. He'd been referred to as just simply "Jack Frost" for so long that saying that extremely long, _true_ name of his felt strange.

Feeling decidedly confused about this predicament, Jack grabbed his staff from where it had been propped up against the wall and ran off to where he knew Tooth would be. Everyone had stayed overnight after a meeting that had run over too long, and so Jack seated himself across from the Guardian of Memories, who was in the meeting room drinking something that was probably sugar-free from a glass.

The first thing that Jack noticed was that she was uncharacteristically still and that she seemed a _lot_ smaller when she wasn't surrounded by fairies and/or flying.

"Good morning, Jack!" Tooth greeted, setting down her mug of whatever-it-was and giving a small wave when she glimpsed him coming over.

"Hey, Tooth," he replied, shooting her a smile. "Anyone else awake?"

But the feathered woman shot him a shrewd look, knowing full well that he knew the answer to his own question. And he did—North had drunk too much for dinner last night, Bunny was exhausted from running over from the Warren to the Pole, and Sandy . . . well, he was Sandy. They were obviously all still asleep, Jack thought affectionately.

"Yeah, you're right," he laughed, crossing his legs beneath him on the cushion. He met Tooth's amused violet eyes, feeling a little silly for the question he was now going to ask.

"And, um, Tooth?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"What's your real name?" Jack asked, peeking from under his white bangs. "I-I mean, if Tooth _is_ your real name, or if you don't want to tell me—" he added hurriedly before being cut off.

"Toothiana," she said with a kind smile.

Jack blinked, before settling into a smile of his own. "Toothiana?" It was a pretty-sounding name, regal enough for the warrior queen sitting in front of him.

Said warrior queen nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. "It's been so long since someone's referred to me by that name, though . . . But it's nice to know that you know it as well. So what brought this on, Jack?"

Jack squirmed. "Oh, it's just that I remembered my real name—like, my real, _true_ name—in my dream last night. And I wanted to tell you, because you're the Guardian of Memories and all that . . ." he trailed off, now feeling untypically timid.

"I'll tell you the others' names, if you're feeling a bit uncomfortable by telling me yours," Tooth offered, after taking a sip from her mug.

"Okay," Jack agreed, realizing that all the other Guardians must have had other names than the ones he knew now.

"So North—he's easy. His real name is Nicholas St. North," she said, fiddling with one of her feathers. "As for Sandy—his real name's Sanderson Mansnoozie."

Jack laughed. "Seriously?"

Tooth shushed him, though her eyes were alight with silent laughter. "Yes. But don't tease him about it," she admonished, "even though his job seems to go along with his name."

Jack let a few more bouts of laughter escape him before calming down and opening his mouth to ask, "And Bunny?"

"E. Aster Bunnymund."

Jack leaned back on the cushions, enjoying the time he was spending with Tooth. She was almost like his mom in some sense. Jack couldn't fully remember the mother he had in his past life, but he hoped that she had been just like Tooth.

"Do you know what the 'E' stands for?" he asked curiously.

"No," Tooth admitted. "Bunny's refused to tell any of us."

Jack smirked. "Then _that_ must mean that it's an embarrassing one, right?"

"It could be," Tooth laughed, catching on. "You're going to tease him relentlessly about it, aren't you."

"How'd you guess?" he asked innocently.

"Because I know you, Jack Frost," she said sternly, though he could see the affection in her eyes.

He laughed. "And um, about my real name . . . it's Jackson Isaac Overland Frost," he said softly, giving a shy smile. "That's my name from when I was human, minus the 'Frost' part. The Man in the Moon gave me that name much later."

Tooth smiled back. "It's a nice one. But be sure not to tell anyone—besides those who you can trust, of course, like us—what your true name is, though. Names have power, and many spirits would kill to have a Guardian under their control."

"But you just told me the others' real names," Jack pointed out.

"But they trust you, and you trust them in return," Tooth countered. "So I just decided to tell you, since you're one of us now. Name bonds between those that you trust are very strong ones. And if used the wrong way . . . _that's_ when it could get ugly."

They sat together in silence, enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Tooth?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. For telling me, I mean," Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No problem," she replied warmly. "And anyway," she said, flying up and stretching, "it's about time for me to get back. Be sure to tell everyone I said bye, and stop by the Tooth Palace sometime. Baby Tooth misses you."

"Will do," Jack promised, standing up and giving her a salute. "Seeya soon."

Tooth fluttered down and enveloped the boy in a warm hug, and then zipped out of the Pole with a cheery "See you!"

Jack stared at her departing figure until it became a speck in the bright blue sky, then yawned and sank back down on the red couch to stretch out on it. He still had a few more hours until everyone was going to wake up, after all.

And unbeknownst to still sleeping Guardians, the bonds between the five of them were strengthened even further that day.

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**Guest Responses:**

**lalaladybug**: Thank you, and no problem! I love hearing requests, especially when everyone around me's so creative and I've run out of ideas. xD


	4. To Go Up in Smoke: Part I

**A/N: **Oh, look, my first arc in this one-shot series! It was getting a little long, so I extended it. :) This was a request from **13BlueBananas**, who wanted me to do my own spin on what would happen if Jack crashed into a desert.

The part below where Jack is talking about how long he realized his staff was is from personal experience. I cosplayed/dressed up as Jack Frost for the most recent Halloween, and I wore that costume to school—and yes, we were all allowed to wear our costumes. To be honest, it was a little stunning how many people mistook me for other things, such as Gandalf, Moses, Einstein, and the Grim Reaper. Very few people recognized who I was supposed to be . . . I guess that comes from being a freshman in high school, where everyone's trying to be cool and miss out on one of the greatest movies of all time. Ugh.

So I had my white wig on, hand-painted blue hoodie and pants, and PVC pipe staff . . . I made the staff so it would be proportional to my height, and it embarrassed me so much every single time I almost whacked someone with it whenever I tried to hold it in a more comfortable position. I'm 5'9", so the staff was about—I dunno, 6'5". Made it fun when I tried to walk through doorways. :)

It took me a while to post this, because I wanted to finish the whole thing before I did. I apologize for the wait.

**13BlueBananas**—this one's for you!

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**To Go Up in Smoke: Part I**

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**Chapter Summary: **Jack gets a little careless. Not a very good thing to be in North's Workshop.

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"We should go riding in the sleigh," Jack announced randomly, watching North gently rap one of his tiny tools onto his ice prototype.

"Sleigh? Now?" North asked, setting aside his tiny chisel and blowing the excess ice off of the toy. "But is still under—what do you call it?—maintenance. Sleigh will not be ready for use until Christmas Eve."

"Oh. Okay."

Jack slid down in his chair, feeling a little disappointed, and sent a wordless stream of ice to keep the frozen prototypes in their current shape. The ice from outside _was_ cold, but it was all natural. So a fresh covering of frost from the Spirit of Winter himself would help to keep the water in its solid state for as long as was needed.

North chipped away at a stray bit of ice on the little toy he had spent creating for at least two hours. "Thank you, Jack," he said, inspecting his carving for the umpteenth time.

But Jack was not to be deterred from his mission of spending some time with the older Guardian. He stretched from his position on the chair, then stood up and peered curiously at North's work. "So are you busy? Or . . . do you wanna do something together?" Jack added hopefully.

"I _am_ a little busy, Jack," North replied distractedly, rifling through one of the cabinets for probably yet another tool. "Go ask Tooth or Bunny."

Jack tried not to feel a little hurt from the flippant rejection from the other Guardian, and so he put a cheery smile on his face. "Okay, then!" he said, twirling his staff so that the end rested on the floor. "I'll see you—"

The motion of his staff knocked into the finished prototype, smashing it to the floor with a delicate tinkle.

"—later . . ." Jack whispered, cringing when North turned from the cabinet to face him. Jack looked into the aghast face of the Guardian of Wonder, feeling utterly ashamed. "Sorry."

North had placed a large hand on his forehead as Jack talked, clearly trying to reign in his temper and calm himself down. And after letting out a huge breath, North spoke. "Go, Jack," the other Guardian said with gritted teeth, gesturing an eerily still hand at the door, if his anger was that strong. "Come back later."

Jack gulped, clutching his staff close. "Right. Yeah. I'll just—uh, go that way," he said weakly, inching awkwardly to where the other was pointing. "Bye, North."

The door was slammed behind Jack as soon as he stepped outside of the office, making him jump, startled. "I _did_ say I was sorry," he muttered, feeling guilty once again for angering his fellow Guardian.

Jack wandered the workshop's halls, now feeling mindful of where his staff was being swung. And then he thought of all the times that his staff had accidentally tripped others because it was just too long. It was admittedly an awkward thing to carry around, especially since it was about half a foot taller than he was.

He then flew carefully up and out of the workshop, through the open window, and into the blustery winter landscape, wondering to where he should go off to. Wind wrapped around him worriedly, and Jack could tell what she was asking. He smiled, shoving aside his guilt and feelings to the deepest parts of his heart.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm fine!" Jack said brightly, sweeping his hair out of his face. "You wanna head to Tooth's? I might even get to play with Baby Tooth for a little."

And so Jack flew off in the direction of Punjam Hy Loo, leaving the chill of the North Pole behind him.

* * *

He regretted his decision a few hours too late.

It _had _been fun at first, flying down and skimming the surface of the Atlantic Ocean (because he wanted to say a quick hello to Jamie by leaving the boy another frost animal in his room while he was at school), but now Jack was getting dangerously close to the equator, which he had never dared to stay in for extended periods of time in his three-hundred-plus years of life. He had always shied away from the uncomfortable rays of sunshine before, speeding across the band of harsh, too-warm air whenever he would travel to Antarctica, but Jack had been too lost in his thoughts about the broken prototype back at the Pole to notice where he was, and the sweat forming over his heated skin.

"Wind, why'd I go _this_ way?" he groaned, trying not to pass out in the sky.

He sighed and brushed aside his sweaty bangs from his forehead, trying to ignore the dryness of his throat and the strange burning sensation all over his body. It was only a _little_ bit of heat, Jack tried to reason, attempting to speed up his flight through what he thought was the Sahara Desert. If he crossed through it fast enough, he would hopefully have somewhere to rest and cool off.

But the sun beating down on his exposed neck made him feel unbearably hot. _I should've taken a snowglobe . . ._ Jack mused, dark spots beginning to appear in his vision. Jack had felt uncomfortable taking one from the Pole before, especially after annoying North.

He really regretted not taking it now. And if he did, maybe he wouldn't have felt like he was dying . . .

Jack didn't realize that his eyelids were drooping, but then a warm blast of air from Wind startled him into consciousness. The warmth worried him, as his oldest friend usually felt much colder than that.

"Sorry, Wind," he said apologetically. "I'll pay more attention this time." Jack then raised his free hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, trying to soothe the pounding headache that had appeared—oh, he didn't know. About an hour ago?

He flew on and sighed again, trusting Wind to lead him to where he wanted to go. Even up to now, Jack didn't know whether Wind knew what his intended route was, or if she just went along with his thoughts.

"Ugh . . ." he groaned again, beginning to feel dizzy. Jack resisted the urge to remove his sweat-soaked hoodie, feeling weird and soggy under all the thick fabric. But now that he thought about it . . . he wasn't sweating anymore, despite the blistering heat. The perspiration on his hoodie was from a while ago.

Jack rubbed his unnervingly warm hand to his head, his skin feeling dry.

_Wasn't that bad, though?_ Jack found himself thinking deliriously. He exhaled once, making an effort to shake off his weariness. Jack then cracked one eye open and stared straight ahead, trying to focus on the bright blue expanse of sky in front of him.

So exhausted was he that Jack didn't notice that his staff was hanging loosely between his fingers.

He didn't notice that his flight pattern was growing alarmingly erratic from his dazed state of being.

And before he knew it—his staff slipped from his fingers, Wind lost her grip on her frost child, and Jack Frost plummeted to earth, unconscious.

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Guest: **Thank you! I'm glad that you do. :)


	5. To Go Up in Smoke: Part II

**A/N: **So here it is . . . the second part to this wonderful arc. I'm not sure how long it'll take to wrap this up (I think just one more chapter), but I hope I managed to capture enough emotion into this! It was fun. :3

And yes, before anyone freaks out over the fact that I put vegetation in the Sahara Desert, there _are_ trees in it. I did some researching before sticking one in. :p

**Disclaimer that's like, five chapters late: **I do not own _Rise of the Guardians. _Sadly.

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**To Go Up in Smoke: Part II**

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**Chapter Summary: **The Guardians discover that Jack has gone missing, and they get help from a surprising source.

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North finished painstakingly recarving the minute details into a fresh block of ice, and held it out proudly in front of himself with a flourish. "Ta-daaaa!" he exclaimed with a bright smile, turning around to show off the new, even better toy to Jack.

"So, wvat do you think, Ja—"

North stopped speaking when he saw the empty chair, dusted with melting frost and looking slightly damp with dark spots, realizing that he had sent the boy out of his office _hours_ ago after Jack had accidentally broken the first prototype. The tiniest streaks of regret began to pool in his belly (and North knew his belly was _never_ wrong) when he remembered how irritated he had been with the younger Guardian earlier.

And the briefest flash of hurt that had appeared on the boy's face . . .

North gently placed the ice sculpture on the table and exited his office, set on finding Jack and apologizing.

* * *

Two hours had passed, and North still hadn't located Jack.

Given, the workshop was huge, but the yetis would've told him if they saw the winter spirit wandering around. Sighing and swallowing up his pride, North turned to the nearest yeti and asked, "Have you seen Jack?"

The yeti in question paused and shifted its pile of packages to one arm before garbling an affirmative.

"Where?" North asked urgently.

The yeti, _John_, North remembered, pointed out the open window up above and mumbled something about the boy playing with a baby tooth. He then apologized for not knowing any more.

North waved it off. "Is no problem. спасибо (Thank you)," he said gratefully. The Russian man waited for the yeti to shift its stack of presents again and leave, before taking a snowglobe out of his pocket and whispering to the glass, "I say, _Tooth Palace_."

* * *

Tooth flitted around, checking on each of the seven towers (though _why_ she had one for Antarctica, she didn't know) to see if all teeth were accounted for. For some strange reason, she had had a bad feeling in her since yesterday, and deduced that it could be from something wrong with the careful order of all the teeth.

So at the moment, she was checking North America's tower, 17th century section, mumbling the names of the children under her breath. With each careful brush of her fingers over the surface of the tooth boxes, the name and face of the child appeared in her mind. "Katelyn Nelson, Kyle Nelson, Joseph O'Brien, Abigail O'Neill, Emma Over—"

Tooth gasped when the image of a smiling girl with long, straight chocolate-brown hair and golden-brown eyes eyes popped in her head. And next to that girl was a taller, older boy, with the exact same features. Their childhood memories were so linked and intertwined that they appeared in each other's teeth . . .

Then the fairy's eyes widened in realization, and so she gently—almost reverently—picked up the gold canister of the girl who had been Jack's sister so many years ago. She examined the container with a sad smile, then sighed, slipping it back into its slot, mentally marking its position. Jack might want to see the memories of his most precious person someday.

Tooth went back to taking count of the children's teeth, but as soon as she laid a finger on the cool, metallic surface of the next box, a whoosh of air startled the Guardian out of her concentration. She faltered in her flight for a moment, then regained her balance and fluttered down to where a bright, swirling portal had appeared.

"North?" she asked, surprised, watching the man pop into existence. "What are you doing here?"

"Have . . . you seen . . . Jack?" North wheezed in answer, clutching his side and breathing heavily.

Tooth sympathized. Traveling via portal without a mode of transportation was bound to take at least _some_ toll on the body.

But she was still a bit confused as to why North was here, asking about their youngest member. "Jack?" she asked, leading North to the waterfall that overlooked the mosaic so he could sit. "No. He hasn't been here for about . . . uh, two weeks, I think. But isn't he supposed to be with you?"

"Well . . . yes, but I have been told that he made his way here yesterday," North said gravely, accepting the offered boulder and sat down. "And I have bad feeling in belly. What if something—"

"—bad has happened to him on the way?" Tooth finished quietly. "I've had a bad feeling for a while now as well."

And as she spoke, Tooth wondered whether name bonds provided a way to know whether your Bonded were in trouble.

"Let us go back to Pole," North then decided. "We must call the others."

* * *

Jack's tired eyes fluttered open, breaths leaving him in small, shallow gasps. He blinked slowly and let out a pained groan. His back, head, shoulders—_everything hurt._

And he was so, _so_ thirsty. He felt like he was burning.

As his senses began to sharpen, Jack realized that he was on his stomach, and his hood was over his sand-encrusted head, probably from—from when he had fallen. It scared Jack that he couldn't even remember closing his eyes and plummeting to the ground.

He had fallen from the sky before (such as the most recent fight with Pitch), but never from the distance he had fallen from now. Jack dimly wondered whether he had broken anything.

Jack wasn't even aware that he had closed his eyes until a troubling thought flitted through his mind—_his staff! Where was it?_

The urgency of the situation provided Jack with a small burst of energy to crawl over to a nearby tree and lay under the shade. It was a few degrees cooler there, and it gave enough relief so that Jack could clear his mind enough to focus.

Jack then curled his fingers into the sand, trying to force himself up. He needed to stay awake to find his staff. But the effort of just crawling over to the tree seemed to have sapped his dwindling strength, because he flopped over, an involuntary hiss of pain leaving his lips. Jack tried to once more push himself off the sandyground (heh, _Sandy,_ he thought deliriously_)_, but his arms shook with the effort. He dropped back down, feeling hopeless.

He was so tired.

Jack wasn't sure if he would be able to stay awake any longer. He was hurting _so much_, and it was so hot . . .

"Wind . . ." Jack croaked, his throat dry and tongue feeling like sandpaper, "help me. Find the other Guardians."

Wind blew around him worriedly, then sped off. Jack smiled weakly, then felt his eyelids begin to droop. The last thing he saw was the moon beginning to take its place in the sky. The moon, with its luminous glow, and its aggravating inability to help. And with that final thought, Jack Frost's blue eyes closed once again.

* * *

Bunny and Sandy showed up in almost record time after North sent out the Lights.

"What's goin' on?" Bunny demanded, while Sandy simply formed a question mark above his head.

North gave a huge sigh and glanced over at Tooth. "We think Jack is in trouble," he said, looking back at the new arrivals.

Bunny immediately snorted at that. "Isn't he always?"

Tooth shook her head. "No, not _making _trouble, but _in _trouble!" she insisted. "I can't put my finger on it, but we need to go looking for him."

Sandy waved his hand in the air to get the others' attentions, then formed a globe, along with a snowflake, above his head. _Do you even know where Jack_ is?

". . . No," Tooth admitted, then looked to North to explain the whole story. Because she was still confused as to why Jack would try to go to the Tooth Palace without a snowglobe from the North Pole.

"I was . . . a little bit angry at Jack," North said, suddenly becoming very interested in the floor. "He broke ice prototype and I sent him out of office. And after, I was not sure where Jack had gone."

Bunny's green eyes became steely. "And _what_, exactly, did ya say to Jack to make 'im go so easily out of your office?"

Then a loud rattling suddenly coming from above them made all of the Guardians jump. Tooth quickly glanced up and flew to the window to inspect the source of the noise, and was surprised to discover that a strong wind was pushing against the glass, almost like it was trying to get in . . .

Flitting to the other windows, Tooth noticed that the rattling moved to whatever windowpane she shifted over to. Then she gasped, and stretched out her hand to unlatch the window. This was no ordinary wind.

Wind roared in, sweeping around the huge room and blowing papers, toys, and elves everywhere.

"Tooth!" North bellowed, grabbing onto a nearby pole to stabilize himself. "What are you _doing?_"

"This is _Jack's_ Wind!" Tooth shouted back, holding her feathered arms in front of her face in an X-shape, buffeted by the strong gale blowing around her.

"How do you know?" Bunny asked from his position against a pillar, reaching out a paw to pull Tooth down and to keep her from being thrown around in the air like the elves.

Tooth grasped the offered limb gratefully and answered, "I just do. And a normal wind wouldn't blow like this."

Currently, Jack's Wind was attempting to push the four of them to the elevator that led to the sleigh. It was howling, almost sounding like a human shrieking.

Sandy nodded in agreement and formed a sand arrow over his palm, which Wind pushed against to show where it wanted them to go. And over the former wishing star's head was the image of North's sleigh.

"The sleigh?" North asked, keeping a hand on the pole.

Wind's gusts suddenly quieted, and streamed in a gentle arc around the four bewildered Guardians, coursing through the arrow above the Sandman's hand.

"It is decided then," North said, releasing his grip. "We will follow Wind to Jack."

Tooth let go of Bunny's paw and turned to meet his worried green eyes. Jack was supposed to show up to her Palace about 24 _hours_ ago. A lot could happen in that much time. She bit her lip.

She could only hope that Jack was okay . . .

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**Guest Responses:**

**Guest:** Here's some more to read, haha! :D


	6. To Go Up in Smoke: Part III

**A/N: **I guess this _was _the last part to this arc. I tried to make it angsty, but it ended up becoming a fluff-fest instead, haha. xD

I'm not very good with explaining injuries (I'm not a doctor yet, guys! xP), so if anyone out there is more professional than I am, please tell me if the information below is incorrect.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope that your day is filled with chocolate and lovely wishes as I go off to perform in a play. :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

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**To Go Up in Smoke: Part III**

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**Chapter Summary: **The Guardians go to find their youngest member, and some apologies are said.

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Night was falling as the Guardians, in the slightly scratched and beat-up sleigh (for the yetis still hadn't finished repairs to it yet, such as repainting and polishing the wood), raced along with Jack's Wind to find their youngest.

Tooth was fidgeting worriedly in her seat, suppressing the urge to fly out of the sleigh and look for Jack herself, though she had no idea where he might be. All that she could do—all that _all_ of them could do—was wait to be led to where their lost Spirit of Winter was.

She was gripping Sandy's hand and Bunny's paw tightly, probably cutting off their blood circulation (_did Sandy even _have_ blood? _she wondered), and she squeezed tighter when the air around them became warm and muggy. Tooth was getting dangerously close to tears when she glimpsed the swirling sands of a desert beneath them.

Could Jack be _here, _of all places?

Tooth released a shaky breath when she thought about how there was a reason that the boy had always shied away from the warm, roaring fire back at the Pole. Heat and a being of winter, such as Jack Frost, didn't mix.

After what seemed like ages, the wind ruffling through her feathers finally began to move down in a steady arc. North followed the warmish stream of air to a tree, where moonlight seemed to be shining upon it brightly. Glints of white glowed brightly in the silvery beam, despite the shadows.

Tooth gasped and squeezed her friends' hands tighter. _Jack . . ._

As soon as the sleigh landed, its runners settling into the sand, Tooth flew out and raced to the winter spirit's side, with Bunny and Sandy close behind. She then dropped down to the ground and skidded to a stop, spraying sand everywhere.

The fairy cradled Jack's head, eyes widening when she felt how _warm_ his skin was. His eyes were closed, his breathing was unnervingly shallow, and the light frost that usually dusted his hoodie was gone_. _His staff was nowhere to be seen.

"Jack," she said urgently.

"Here, I'll get 'im," Bunny interrupted, leaning down and gently picking up the inert winter spirit, wincing when Jack let out a pained gasp and unconsciously curled into a protective ball. "He probably has internal damage," the Pooka then muttered roughly, his green eyes stony as he whirled around to run back to the sleigh, careful not to jostle the thin body any further.

As he left, Tooth could've sworn that she heard him mumble vehemently, "Don't you _dare_ give out on us now, Frostbite. Don't you _dare._"

With a determined look, she then turned to face Sandy. "His staff. Can you help me find it?"

Sandy nodded and sent out streams of dreamsand, the bright, golden ribbons streaming through the night air. The Guardian of Dreams had a look of utmost concentration on his face as he tried to locate the staff, and after a few moments, he broke into a smile, a tendril of dreamsand wrapped around the wooden conduit.

"Thanks, Sandy," Tooth said, feeling relieved as the two flew back to the sleigh, where North and Bunny were worriedly watching over the comatose winter spirit.

"We found his staff," Tooth said breathlessly, gripping the side of the sleigh. Sandy held it up in triumph. The two Guardians sat down on one of the wooden benches, and North flicked the reins, making the reindeer fly off.

"Good," North said appreciatively, slipping a snowglobe out of his pocket. Then he whispered to the glass, "I say . . . North Pole."

Tooth felt a small wave of vertigo (but probably not as bad as North felt when he came to the Tooth Palace earlier) as they passed through the portal, and blinked a few times when they landed on the ramp. The sleigh creaked as everyone piled out of it, and North began booming urgent instructions to the bewildered yetis.

"Fetch buckets of snow!" he shouted. "Open window of infirmary!"

Bunny, who still had Jack cradled in his arms, had a look of undisguised concern on his face as he followed the yetis to the infirmary, occasionally mumbling, "Hang in there, Jack. We've gotcha."

The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity as the four Guardians worked alongside the yetis to bring the feverish winter spirit's temperature down by bringing in snow and ice and placing it on his body. They had to unfortunately remove Jack's blue hoodie (how else would the ice cool him down?), and he looked so much smaller than he already did when he wasn't swathed in the blue fabric and jumping around, freezing everything in sight.

As the others hurried in and out, Tooth was by Jack's side, rubbing aloe gel onto his sunburned neck, face, and feet, wincing whenever the boy whimpered in his sleep at her touch. In addition to the fever and sunburn, Jack had appeared to have fractured his pelvic bone as well. He would have to stay in bed for a long time if he wanted to heal correctly and quickly.

The only thing she knew about fractures like that was that a person got them if they were in a horrific car accident or they had fallen from a great height. If the fall from the Battle of Burgess only left Jack with minor aches and pains, how far had he fallen to injure himself so badly?

"Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry that this happened to you," she whispered, smoothing down his white bangs. She leaned down and kissed his forehead gently. "Wake up soon, okay? It's too quiet without your laughter."

* * *

_Hurts . . ._

Jack felt warm, and not like the comfortable warm in Bunny's Warren, or wandering Burgess with Jamie and Sophie as it snowed.

His dreams were strange, and he didn't like them very much. In fact, they were downright _terrifying_—Tooth was crying, Sandy had a perpetual look of sadness on his face, Bunny looked almost _hopeless_ _. . ._

His skin was prickling, pain still shooting throughout his body, and most especially from around his stomach area. Jack flung out his arm to the side to reach for his staff on instinct, and a hot burst of pain overwhelmed his senses. And then he remembered.

North being mad at him.

Leaving the Pole to go the the Tooth Palace.

Losing his staff and the wind whistling in his ears as he fell.

Waking up in the desert and calling for the Guardians.

Jack's eyes flew open, jerking from the thoughts that had been zipping through his mind. An involuntary cry of pain then left his lips at the movement, and cool, slippery weights slid from his bare chest—_bare?_ Jack felt himself become a little warm as he hugged himself with his arms, and he immediately hissed at the action because of the throbbing in his abdominal region. Glancing over to the side of the bed he was lying down on (being _very _careful not to jostle his body again), Jack realized that bags of ice had been placed on top of him.

Jack huffed unhappily and gazed around the room, his mood becoming a little brighter when he recognized the style and decorations on the walls. He was at the Pole . . . because what other place would have candy canes and festive evergreens placed almost randomly around the place?

He looked around for his staff and sighed in relief when he spotted the wood propped up against the wall next to him. His hoodie was also neatly folded on a nearby chair, which he slowly grabbed and slipped carefully over his head.

Jack then reached for his staff, and as soon as his fingers brushed the rough surface, faint trails of ice began to lace it. Looking down at his sleeve, he noticed that thin fern designs had once again streaked over the blue fabric as well.

He smiled, because the fact that he could produce even a _little_ bit of ice at all meant that he had gotten slightly better. Gripping his staff in his right hand, Jack pulled it closer to him, feeling content with the familiar weight.

Jack stretched out his staff and waved it, forcing the window open with an unsettlingly weak blast of blue from the tip of the crook (well, weak when compared to his usual strength), and let out a content sigh when the unpleasant warmth that had invaded his body began to dissipate as the outside chill settled into the room. He then closed his eyes, letting the snow and wind blow around him.

And that was how North found him when the man came in about thirty minutes later, carrying a glass of water.

"How are you feeling, Jack?" North asked with a kind smile, pulling up a chair next to him.

Jack opened his eyes at the voice and glanced sideways, before turning to gaze out at the snowy landscape. "Okay, I guess," he replied, his fingers curling tighter around the wood of his staff. "Do you know how long I've been asleep?"

North frowned and set down the glass of water down on the side table. "About . . . two days," he said, putting his hands in his lap. "And well, your condition is to be expected. We found you under tree in Sahara Desert, feeling very feverish. You also fractured your pelvis bone."

Jack blinked. So _that _was why his abdomen was hurting so much. For a while, there was nothing but the sound of howling wind and the occasional creaking of North's chair as he shifted in his seat. "I should apologize, Jack," North then said.

Jack turned his head to face him, eyes widening in surprise. "Why?"

"I shouldn't have acted the way I did earlier," North said, pulling something out from his pocket. It glinted from the sunlight reflecting off of it, and Jack realized that it was a toy made of ice . . . something similar to one he had broken.

"It was accident," the older Guardian continued, holding the prototype between his hands, "and I should not have blamed you or been angry. Many accidents happen in Pole. It is a workshop full of yetis and elves, after all."

As Jack shook his head, he noticed that the model toy didn't melt—probably because it was made of ice that he had created for just that purpose. Then he said, "Nah, it was my fault. I wasn't looking where I swung my staff, and you had been working on that thing for _hours. _I understood why you were mad."

"But I still want to say that I am sorry for causing you to become hurt like this, Jack," North said gently, still managing to sound loud even when he had tried to drop his voice to make it sound quieter. He sighed and placed the toy train next to the glass of water on the table. "You got hurt because of my mistakes, and the others are worried about you, too."

Jack felt himself become a little warm. "Oh, um, it's okay, North. I'm much better now—really. You don't have to worry about me, 'cause I can take care of myself."

"Did not seem like it when you were unconscious in desert, with broken bone," the other Guardian countered. "And you still need to stay in bed so you can heal faster. You are not better yet."

When Jack opened his mouth to quickly try to deny any such claims that he _needed_ the others, North plowed on. "We worry because we _care. _We may not have known you for very long, but you are family."

Jack stared at him, stunned at the spiel. This was the first time that one of the Guardians had really _confirmed _what Jack's place was in their little group. And he felt . . . uncharacteristically warm inside at the words. "Thanks, North," he said quietly. The older Guardian then offered the glass of water that he had brought, and Jack took it gratefully. It felt nice against his dry throat.

North smiled as he took the empty glass and placed it back on the table. "No need to thank me. You are one of us, aren't you?"

Jack laughed, then winced, his hands reflexively moving to where the pain was. "I guess so," he said, settling for a smile, awkwardly putting his arms back at his sides. It sure hurt a lot less than a laugh.

"Now, back to sleep," North instructed, standing up and draping a blanket over the winter spirit's body. "Your body is still recovering, and you need rest. And that means _no_ putting all of your weight on your legs—"

"Can I fly, then?"

"Flying will stress your injury," the older Guardian said firmly, "so you will have to use crutches until you heal." His stern expression then softened. "We will come back to check up on you later."

Jack wanted to protest against this, but he found himself complying—albeit with a pout—when he relaxed under the covers, suddenly feeling strangely exhausted. "North?" he then called drowsily as the man opened the door to leave.

"Yes, Jack?"

"Thank you . . . for finding me."

The older Guardian stopped and turned around, gazing fondly at the boy he had come to care so much for.

". . . We always will," North said softly, but Jack was already sleeping, a small smile upon his face.


	7. Athazagoraphobia

**A/N: **Okay, so I was trying to do a nice, little drabble, but then this popped up. :)

And just a fair warning: some chapters might be short, or so insanely long that it had to split into parts. This is one of the shorter ones, obviously. I also think this one's a little weird, but meh. Here's a thing.

Oh, and remember how I made Jack's mortal middle name "Isaac" in one of the earlier chapters? I just picked one I liked (without knowing what it meant), and it turns out that it means "laugh" in Hebrew. What better name for our Guardian of Fun, right?

_Set pre-movie._

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**Athazagoraphobia**

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_"Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat."_

_— Mother Teresa_

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**athazagoraphobia: **(n.) the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced.

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**Chapter Summary: **He'd always wished to be seen. But sometimes he wonders whether it's worth all that trouble.

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Jack considered himself a free spirit—he never liked being tied down to anything. Whether it be obligations, relationships . . . the winter spirit always flew away before he could get too close.

And that first time in the air soon after he was born, the cool, crisp breeze making his cloak flap wildly—it had given Jack a thirst for freedom. He hated being restrained, preferring to keep moving and flying free to wherever and whenever he wanted.

But when Jack actually took time to think about his tendency to avoid getting close to others, he wondered whether being this flighty was a good thing. He had yearned for a family for so long, but he had always been afraid of being cast out, not fitting in, of being rejected . . .

Jack feared that no one would ever see him, ignored for eternity.

He feared that he would be forgotten when he faded (because didn't spirits without a significant source of energy from believers vanish forever?), only known as an expression.

And he feared being alone.

But no one knew that Jack Frost often felt these things. They dismissively pushed any thoughts of the rebellious and wild winter spirit out of their minds, writing him off as a nuisance, a troublemaker, and an annoyance.

For no one had never really _tried _to get to know Jack for three hundred years . . .

No one knew the difference between his false smiles and his real ones. His forced laughs and his genuine ones. No one tried to push past the walls guarding his heart, unaware of how much his bright blue eyes silently begged to be saved.

No one knew how much he cared for the children—how many he had rescued from falling through thin ice or freezing to death. He would frighten them off with a strong wind and/or a couple of well-placed snowballs to the head. He apparently was put on Santa's Naughty List a lot for those actions, hence no presents. In addition, Jack couldn't resist playing pranks as well. He needed something to assure him that he was indeed _real,_ and not just wandering the world as a ghost of some sort.

Most spirits that Jack came across told him not to worry, because he was the harbinger of winter. He was supposed to be cold, distant, and unkind. According to them, Jack didn't _need _company.

Nevertheless, he tried to get attention from others many times, tried to get someone to _see _him, but he was always walked through or ignored. It happened so many times that Jack thought he'd get used to it after a while. But centuries passed, and the emptiness inside was never any easier to deal with.

Maybe those spirits were perfectly content by themselves, but Jack wasn't.

Not at all.


	8. Cabin Fever

**A/N:** Because **13BlueBananas **and **DragonRobotkid676** wanted a follow-up to "To Go Up in Smoke," here it is! It entails a PO'd and slightly claustrophobic Jack, a stern, slightly parental North, and elf shenanigans.

I also apologize for the lateness of this chapter (and the randomness of the ending and everything—most of this was typed up at around 10:00 p.m. in the secrecy and darkness of my room where I fell asleep half the time as I typed). I was also sick for about week, and it's been hard to work up energy to write. But since Jack gave my brother and me a snow day today (cough, _cyber _snow day -.- cough), I was able to finish this one up. Yay! xD

I seem to be sneaking a lot of personal experiences in here, because I know what it feels like to have crutches. They suck.

Oh, and **13BlueBananas,** I attempted to sneak one of your prompts in here. It's sort of hard to tell though, in my opinion. ^^;

AND GUYS GUESS WHAT? There's going to be a Jack Frost book from William Joyce for _The Guardians of Childhood _series coming out in October! Maybe we'll get a little more background on Jack's human life in it. And if Jack's sister's name isn't what most of the fandom has decided (I prefer Emma, to be perfectly honest), I think we're all going to have a meltdown. xP

**Disclaimed.**

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**Cabin Fever**

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**Chapter Summary: **After the events of "To Go Up in Smoke," North learns the hard way why you should never, _ever _try to keep Jack Frost cooped up in a confined area against his will.

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Jack stared blankly at another divot in the wooden panels that made up the floor of his room. He wondered what had made it. An elf, maybe? After all, Jack had no idea what his room was used for before he came to occupy it.

It had already been about four weeks since the "Incident," as Jack tended to refer to it, and he was already bored out of his mind. He'd easily consented to staying in bed for the first week or two because it still hurt too much to move, but by the time the third week rolled around, North had given him crutches so that he could move around on his own.

Jack had been ecstatic at first—he'd seen other kids use them, and it had looked really fun from afar. But by the end of the second day, his arms were extremely sore from where the crutches had rubbed against them. He honestly almost took North's offer of a wheelchair, though the thought of Bunny seeing him sitting in one made him refuse.

He still had his pride, after all.

So Jack used the crutches for the entirety of the third week, being careful to move slowly, as to not aggravate his still-mending fracture. He wasn't allowed to leave the North Pole, so he wandered throughout the workshop, exploring. It would take him probably a few decades to see all the rooms.

As interesting as the Pole was, though, Jack longed to call Wind again and fly off to Burgess to see Jamie. He hadn't seen his first believer in weeks, and the time he dropped off a frost animal during the Incident didn't really count.

In truth, Jack just wanted to be able to fly again in general. Sometimes he would sit on the balcony in his room (because he was allowed back there from the infirmary after he was put on crutches), just to say hello to Wind and be surrounded by his natural environment. Weeks of staying still and being stuck in the same place didn't work well with someone as energetic as Jack. He was getting a little antsy and admittedly a little claustrophobic.

The first time Jack had tried to fly was earlier this week. He was feeling pretty confident that he was fine, but in hindsight, it probably wasn't such a good idea—for Jack's method of flight involved a lot of twisting, and his still-healing body wasn't functioning well under the strain.

Jack had lost his concentration in the air because of the sharp pain that had blossomed around his waist, and he had plummeted . . . right into the arms of a startled—which soon turned into a disapproving—Nicholas St. North.

North confiscated Jack's staff from him after bringing the protesting boy back to his room, with the words of, "It is better for me to keep it so you don't hurt yourself even more." Jack was honestly a little surprised at how easily he had let him take his staff, but of course, Jack Frost wasn't one to just "give up." Just having his staff with him calmed him down, and even though he wouldn't be using it to fly—_yet_—being able to do more complicated things with his magic would help get rid of some of his boredom.

Soon after North had left, Jack had gotten out of the bed and hobbled over to the glass balcony doors and pressed a pale hand on the surface. Delicate swirls of frost bloomed on the pane, and Jack quickly drew the rough outline of a bird.

Balancing carefully on his crutches with his armpits, Jack encircled the drawing with his hands and closed his eyes, infusing a little of his magic into the little frost animal. To his delight (he seriously never got tired of doing that), the bird came to life and fluttered on his shoulder, tilting its head, its blank eyes watching him curiously.

Jack grinned. "Okay . . . um, Bagel, I need you to go and trail North and find out where he put my staff. Can you do that for me?"

The newly-christened "Bagel" gave a little chirp and leaped off his shoulder, its icy wings flapping as it flew out the door.

To Jack's satisfaction, Bagel had managed to successfully follow the Guardian of Wonder without detection, and Jack (who was in his room and sitting on his bed) grinned again when the frostling "showed" him in his mind where North had placed his staff.

He shifted around, hopping slightly, and limped to the door, wincing when the crutches dug themselves into his arms. When he entered the hallway, he glanced both ways, then made his unsteady way left.

He had a Bagel to find, and a staff to rescue.

* * *

. . . Well, the first time Jack had tried to break into the room that Bagel had shown him didn't work so well. Phil had caught him as soon as Jack placed his hand on the doorknob, the yeti picking him up gently and bringing him and his crutches back to the room.

Jack had fumed silently in Phil's arms, but then a secretive grin formed on his face (one that Phil didn't notice, thank Manny) at the thought of that no one knew that Bagel existed yet.

It had taken about six additional days of reconnaissance for Jack to sneak into the room that held his staff. Yetis always seemed to be close by since that first botched attempt, and Bagel was constantly on alert outside the door, sending status reports through their shared link.

It was a little disconcerting to have a visual on something that Jack wasn't even seeing at times, but Jack supposed that it was like Tooth and her fairies. They were a part of her, just as his frost animals were a part of him.

Bagel also liked to send Jack some of its memories at times, such as North handing Jack's staff to Phil, with the instructions of, "Don't let Jack get this."

In his room, Jack had laughed quietly at that, thinking about how he was already making plans to steal his prized possession back.

But in those six days of receiving strange memories from his bird and just _waitingwaitingwaiting_, Jack's sanity had begun to ebb away, making the normally cheerful and bright Guardian of Fun a little grumpy, moody, and loopy.

He had snapped at North once when he had come in to check on him, and Jack immediately felt guilty at what he had done and apologized. He was just so incredibly bored and tired and too stressed out because he was too injured to _do his jobs_. There was so much magical energy pent up inside, and the little frost animals weren't enough to release all of the winter magic that was trapped inside him.

Yes, Jack could've easily make a snowstorm without his staff, but it would be too unmanageable. Having his conduit with him made it possible to form a more controlled, less destructive storm. But since he didn't have it . . . if Jack were to create one now, it could demolish half the workshop!

North had quickly left after Jack's outburst, easily accepting the apology, and Jack laid back down on the bed, spastic bursts of snow and ice leaving his fingertips because of his fluctuating emotions. To his horror, Jack had managed to bury his room in snowdrifts that neared the ceiling when he woke up the next day.

(He tried to keep his magic inside after that.)

Jack still hadn't healed during this time, and relying on his crutches for weeks on end put a large damper on his spirits. Even creating his frostlings couldn't cheer him up.

But on the seventh day, Bagel sent an image of an empty hallway, putting a familiar spark back in the Spirit of Winter's eyes. It was time to move.

* * *

Jack grinned when he quickly stole away from the room that held his staff (well, as quickly as a person could go while on crutches), though he was wincing internally at the _clack clack clack_ sound that his supports made as he moved.

Jack had quickly discovered that gripping the handles of his crutches didn't allow for holding anything else on the first few days of having them, so when he retrieved his staff, he made a sort of strap thing out of ice that wrapped around his torso and that lashed his staff to his back. It wasn't the best thing that he could've done, but Jack was satisfied. It would do for now.

So the youngest Guardian made his way back to his room awkwardly, because having a six-foot-plus piece of wood strapped to his back was an additional weight that he was unaccustomed to having there, and it threw off his already unsteady stride even more. Jack was sorely tempted to fly back, but it would probably attract some unwanted attention (and he was also a little nervous because he remembered what happened the last time he tried to fly before he was fully healed).

But when he sat back down on his bed, being able to release a torrent of snow, ice, and wind from out his window made it worth it.

* * *

As North chipped yet another piece of ice off the block that he didn't mean to, he tried to figure out what he could create out of something that he had damaged so much.

His thoughts then traveled to the boy that was currently sitting listlessly upstairs. Jack's lack of vitality worried North, and it was probably because he wasn't used to seeing the younger so . . . so _still._

Jack was always such a bundle of raw energy that North had gotten used to his voice prattling on about whatever, and he made labor in the workshop a little more enjoyable with the bits of chaos he strewed around it.

North placed his chisel on the table and sat down heavily on his chair, plucking up a cookie from the platter that the elves had brought in earlier. He chewed it distractedly, and wondered idly whether Jack would want any.

He then came to an epiphany as he reached for the next cookie—what if the cause for Jack's "shutdown" was from the lack of movement? It was a reasonable enough guess. Jack was so used to being able to move around whenever and wherever he wanted, so suddenly grounding a boy as lively as he was was sure to sap some of his spirit. And the fact that Jack was staffless at the moment—no. North shook that thought away. He would only try to fly again, even though he still wasn't healed.

North wasn't entirely sure how long it would take a boy like Jack to recover. From the many books that were sitting in his library, he learned that it would take a normal human six to twelve weeks to have pain be nonexistent. But Jack was a spirit, and a Guardian with a steadily increasing amount of believers at that. It was possible that healing time would be sped up, but North didn't want Jack to aggravate the injury even more . . .

He had peered into the boy's room sometime during the fourth day after he confiscated Jack's staff, feeling concerned because Jack hadn't been seen in the workshop for a while. To his astonishment, Jack was lying on the bed with his hand lazily forming snowflakes, frost animals of different varieties flying aimlessly around the room.

North quietly closed the door, and walked away with a slight frown upon his face. He didn't know that Jack was even capable of things like that.

Being still while awake, that is.

Oh, and creating the frost animals, too.

(And he also didn't know that a tiny frostling named Bagel the III had perched itself proudly on his head when he had checked in on Jack. As he walked through the workshop, the elves were quite amused by this.)

Three days soon passed, and there was an uncommonly cold chill beginning to spread throughout the whole workshop. The feel of the magic was young, powerful, and so familiar that North did a double-take. Jack shouldn't have been able to release such a strong wave of magic without . . . his _staff_.

North then hurried down the steps to the room where he had instructed Phil to place Jack's staff, and when he opened the door, the wooden stick was missing from its spot. Jack must've found a way to sneak around the yetis between shifts, but the question was how?

North lifted up a finger and distractedly petted the tiny frost bird that had perched itself on his head a few days ago. He assumed that it was Jack's, but the little thing had refused to leave his side, so North kept it.

He then gathered the attention of a few elves. "Please go to Jack's room and get his staff. He is not allowed to have it at this time."

They grinned goofily in response and turned around to troop up the stairs.

North stared at their retreating figures and made his way to the Globe Room, just to check on the lights again. About ten minutes passed, and then a bitingly cold blast of air blew through the workshop . . .

* * *

Jack was not happy. That much was obvious.

He had fallen asleep after that huge surge of snow that he deposited out the window, but had immediately reawakened when he unconsciously registered the absence of his staff.

The winter spirit was currently sitting up in his bed, his crutches firmly gripped in his hands. He had grabbed them from where they were propped up on the wall.

"I'd like my staff back now!" he said threateningly, sending his best death glare at the large, blinking brown eyes of the fifty elves surrounding him.

They all just shuffled guiltily at his words, the staff that they had stolen from him being quickly passed around, as if not holding it would have Jack's wrath pass over them. If he wasn't so irritated with the situation—plus the fact that he still had a ways to go before he could fly again—Jack would've laughed at their behavior.

Instead, he growled angrily. "North put you up to this, didn't he."

When the elves' normally blank eyes sparked with a bit of surprise and—dare he say it—_fear_, that's when he knew.

Jack took a deep breath. "Please give me my staff back, Dingle," he said between gritted teeth.

The passing around of Jack's staff suddenly came to a halt.

Jack met the eyes of the elves that were gripping it, and faster than he could blink—the elves were on the move, swarming out the door.

"Hey!" Jack yelled, leaping off his bed and chasing after them. (His crutches were discarded.)

Jack ran after them through the halls, ducking and weaving fluidly around the yetis and presents and toys. He had almost forgotten what it was like to run . . . to be free again after so long.

But soon after that thought had passed in his mind, Jack realized that _he wasn't hurting anymore_. A surprised laugh escaped his lips. Who knew that it would only take the shenanigans of a couple dozen elves to get him out of bed and realize that he had recovered already? And so he ran faster, becoming more daring. He jumped, flipped, and—

"JACK FROST!"

Jack stumbled and tripped over his feet, tumbling to the ground. The elves holding his staff glanced back, but then continued scurrying away. The winter spirit groaned and clutched his middle, suddenly feeling a little dizzy.

"Jack!"

Jack found himself being smothered by red, heavy fabric as he was lifted up into the air. "North?" he mumbled, squinting. And he also felt a little annoyed because he had been lifted up into the air without his consent more times than he would've liked.

"Where are your crutches?" the Guardian of Wonder asked, frowning with disapproval.

Jack chuckled nervously at the words. "Uh . . . my room?" At that, North's frown deepened, making Jack lift up his hands in defense. "Hey, I wouldn't've left if you hadn't sent that army of elves after my staff. And besides," he added, trying to wiggle out of North's grip, "my stomach doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Spirits _do_ heal a lot faster than a normal human though," North mused, setting Jack down, who was busy straightening his hoodie.

"Yeah, obviously," Jack responded, feeling a little confused. "A normal human would've died from the height that I fell from in the desert. Heck, a normal human would've died after being blown out of the sky by Pitch Black!"

"True," North admitted.

Jack tilted his head. "You didn't know that? I discovered that back before I became a Guardian, and I've only been around three hundred years or so." He then peered around North's girth. "Oh, hey, can I have my staff back now? I wanna go see Jamie, cuz I haven't seen him in a while."

"Hmm? Oh, yes," North replied distractedly, giving Jack a strange look. "Jingle!"

The same group of elves that had stolen his staff came out from behind the corner, each of them wearing sheepish looks. They all made their way toward the two Guardians standing in the middle of the Globe Room, slowly lifting up their arms so that Jack could retrieve the piece of wood.

Jack grinned at them, gripping the careworn stick. "Thanks, guys."

As the elves grinned back and scampered away to who-knows-where, a small _peep_ drew his attention back to North. Or more particularly, the tiny bird that had popped out from North's beard.

"Ah, so _that's_ where you went," North exclaimed fondly, holding out a large finger so that the frostling would hop upon it.

Jack leaned in closer and examined it. The bird was too small to be Bagel, so . . . "Bagel III?" he asked, stepping back as the frost animal chirped and fluttered onto his head. "I thought you burst into snow!" Then Jack laughed as Bagel III flew back into North's hair.

"He likes you," Jack commented conspiratorially to the older Guardian, jabbing a thumb at the happily tweeting ice bird that had taken to the skies again.

"Bagel?" North asked, giving Jack a dubious look.

"I'm not very good at naming things on the spot!" Jack defended, waving his arms wildly in the air. "And his name's Bagel _III._ The original Bagel is somewhere else in the Pole." _Probably still guarding over that door,_ Jack thought guiltily.

Then he called in his mind for it, smiling when the feeling of _flightcolorsnoises_ entered his mind. "And here he comes," Jack said. He flew up and waved at North. "Anyway, I should be going out and spreading some storms. Three—_four_ weeks in bed without any controlled snowstorms around Earth isn't very good for it. Oh, and you can keep the other Bagel. I think he likes you better."

"I will, then," North said, looking decidedly bemused. "Be careful, and don't go into any more deserts out there."

Jack laughed. "Don't worry, I won't! See you later, North!"

As Jack flew out of the workshop, he vaguely wondered about all the other frost animals he had left behind in his room. Then he shrugged unconcernedly, feeling a slight weight in his hood as Bagel nestled into the blue fabric. North could take care of the others, too.

He had elves, didn't he? Frost animals couldn't be too hard to deal with after living with those things for so long.


	9. A Secret Well-Kept

**A/N: **I do believe that this is my favorite chapter yet. I like it a lot. Like, a _lot. _I mean, seriously, it's hard _not _to love! xD But _daaang_, this is really long! I guess I got a little too carried away in my excitement, haha. ^^; This was actually supposed to be a little more light-hearted (and shorter) when I had planned it out in my head, but the characters just danced away with it as I was writing.

Anyway, it's about time the Guardian of Dreams got a chapter focusing on him. **freakybubbletea **and **voyagerstyle**—here's your requests of seeing something that was Sandy-centric. :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own RotG.

* * *

**A Secret Well-Kept**

* * *

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**Chapter Summary: **They all knew that Jack was a seasonal spirit. This really shouldn't have been so surprising.

.

"That should do it," Jack said, gazing appreciatively at the winter wonderland blanketing the area. Mother had commanded a big one through Wind, so Jack tried his hardest to do so, even though he still felt some twinges of guilt when he glimpsed the people on the street—especially the children—shivering with cold.

It was his last big snowfall before his off-season nap, and he wanted to get a good one in before he had to pass out for a good three months (if he was lucky) until he had to deliver winter to the Southern Hemisphere during the Northern Hemisphere's summer.

Jack never really liked having to go into "hibernation," so to speak, but after all—it was a part of his job to rest up a bit before going back to manage winter. All of the seasonals had to do so, sometime in-between their realm of control. He was in reasonable contact with the other three main spirits, and they sort of had an unspoken rule about protecting the one who was sleeping, because a spirit in hibernation was practically defenseless.

But they were a little surprised at Jack's revelation of becoming a Guardian last year, and the fact that he gone to sleep a lot later than he normally did. He usually burrowed down a few days after Easter, but it took him a few _weeks_ to help the Guardians put the children's belief back into place. He had only fallen asleep for about a month before he had wake up again to set down winter in the Southern Hemisphere.

So once Jack was satisfied with the clouds that were lazily releasing some last-minute snowflakes, he sleepily flew off to Sandy's Island, feeling somewhat drained after this last storm.

It would be nice to start off this long nap with a couple of good dreams.

* * *

Sandy floated in the air for a couple of minutes, his head slightly tilted. His golden brows furrowed when he registered the change in the air, the sense of a different seasonal taking over for this area. And then he smiled, remembering that Jack would be stopping by soon.

The Guardian had been giving small bags of dreamsand to Jack for the last hundred years or so, after he had destroyed a stray Fearling that had been attacking the boy as he slept. Since then, Sandy made sure that Jack got a dose of dreamsand whenever it was his off-season, in addition to the few times he actually went to sleep outside of it, as protection against nightmares such as those. He knew that seasonal spirits were at their most vulnerable when they went into hibernation.

Sandy settled his feet into the glowing sands of his Island, patiently waiting for Jack to come by like he did every year. But last year was a little bit thrown off because of the fiasco with Pitch, because of the waning belief that was in the world. Jack had worked tirelessly to help the other Guardians regain their lost believers, even to the point where he ignored the call of the earth's energy for a _month._

Sandy had been throwing Jack concerned looks as the boy plastered a bright, "I'm not tired!" kind of smile upon his face. But in response to said expression, Sandy raised an eyebrow, actually feeling tempted to knock out the boy right there with a ball of dreamsand.

But since Sandy knew how much Jack wanted to help the other Guardians, he reluctantly let Jack stay awake. He was still worried though, because the hibernation period of the seasonals were one of the few times that their energy could be replenished in full by the Earth and Mother Nature.

And now, Sandy was pleased that Jack would be sleeping for the whole three months that he was supposed to. He was admittedly a little curious to where the winter spirit would fly off to and hide for such an extended period of time, but he never pried. Jack never gave the information, so Sandy wouldn't ask.

A cold breeze then blew through the Island, making Sandy grin and look up at the sky.

Jack was here.

"Hey, Sandy!" Jack greeted, putting a hand in front of his mouth as he yawned hugely. "It's that time of the year again."

Sandy smiled, and filled up the worn, brown bag that the other Guardian held out with golden grains of dreamsand. He knew that the boy had a great deal of pride, so he felt touched that Jack actually trusted him enough to be going back every year for protection.

When the small satchel was filled to the brim, Jack bound the ties of the bag together and waved as the North Wind lifted him up. "See ya in three months, Sandy!" he called, smiling.

Sandy smiled back and waved, watching the boy's silhouette slowly fade as he flew away. The Guardian of Dreams then glanced at the clock that told him which areas were already at 9:00 p.m., and so he flew off of his Island—in the opposite direction that Jack had gone.

* * *

It had been a month since Jack went to sleep. Sandy was currently in Burgess, crafting special dreams for the six children that had helped during the battle against Pitch last year. They weren't just hazy, vague, forgettable dreams, but one where the children would be completely lucid. He usually didn't create dreams like this, but Sandy had a little bit of a soft spot for the children that had helped bring him back from the place of corrupted dreams with only their belief. And of course, Sandy couldn't give them dreams like this every night because they took a lot of energy out of him, but he tried to do so at least once a month.

He then reached the home of Sophie and Jamie Bennett. For Sophie, Sandy gave a dream of her playing with Bunny in the Warren, and for Jamie, a snow day with Jack. The two siblings smiled contentedly and snuggled deeper under their covers in their respective rooms.

Sandy smoothed down Jamie's hair affectionately and let himself out the window, preparing to go somewhere else to give dreams. But then a flash of color drew his eye upwards.

The Northern Lights were shimmering in the night sky.

* * *

"How is everyone?" North boomed, taking a cookie from the plate on top of a passing elf.

"Easter was good this year," Bunny reported proudly. "The li'l ankle-bitahs loved the googies that I left out for 'em, and I think a I got a few more believers."

"A little girl lost her first tooth today!" Tooth said excitedly, before turning to another fairy and saying, "San Francisco, sector 5, lateral incisor."

"Christmas productions are going well," North said right after.

Sandy then gave a thumbs-up and a huge grin when the attention was turned to him.

"What about you, Jack?" Tooth asked, looking to the seat that Jack normally occupied. Then a confused expression appeared on her face when she saw that he wasn't there.

Sandy froze when Jack was brought up. They didn't know that seasonals went into hibernation. Apparently, it was sort of a secret for nature spirits, because Sandy, though he had been alive for millennia, only discovered that fact a hundred years ago when he found Jack.

"He hasn't passed out in another desert, right?" Bunny said nervously, his leg bouncing up and down.

Sandy shook his head vehemently and formed a large, golden "X" above his head, along with a checkmark. _No, he's safe._

"Then why isn't he here? He _knows_ we always have a check-up meeting a month after Easter," Tooth said, looking fearful.

North nodded. "Is true, Toothy," he said in agreement, stroking his beard. "Would take nothing short of Pitch to stop Jack from making it."

Sandy kept shaking his head, a bunch of X's popping over his head. _Stop! Jack is fine—we don't need to look for him!_

But the other Guardians were too busy trying to reason out their youngest's location to see what Sandy was trying to say. He bit his lip. What was he supposed to do now? There was a reason spirits chosen by the Moon and spirits chosen by Mother Nature never got in the way of each other's duties. They were practically polar opposites, as the Guardians and others were stories and fables who dealt with the humans, and nature spirits were responsible for—well, _nature_.

. . . Until Jack, that was.

As the oldest Guardian, Sandy had seen a lot. He knew the gist of how the worlds and their spirits worked. He didn't know much about the realm of the nature spirits, but he had started to become more knowledgeable through Jack, who had unknowingly dropped some information in all the time they'd known each other.

Because after all, there _were_ some secrets privy to each side of the spectrum. The seasonals, by nature, were very secretive and aloof to the spirits made by the Moon. The Guardians and the seasonals barely crossed paths with with each other.

Jack had confided in Sandy one day that other spirits had told him that he didn't need anyone. That he was supposed to be alone. Sandy had responded to that with slight anger and berated Jack, "saying" that he should never think like that. He didn't have to be lonely. He could come by to talk anytime.

When Jack grinned brightly at that and crouched down to give Sandy a hug, Sandy still felt a few stabs of anger at the spirits who had told Jack that. Jack was a _child._ A three-hundred-year-old spirit, but still technically a child.

Children needed guardians to look after them. Sandy wasn't sure how old Jack was when he was chosen, but he sure _looked_ young enough. He wondered what Jack had done to draw both the attention of Mother Nature and the Man in the Moon at such a young age. Sandy, Bunny, North, and Tooth were chosen and turned immortal when they were still alive. Emily Jane and Tsar Lunar wouldn't rip a boy from his family so soon . . . right?

Sandy mused about the coldness between spirits of nature and spirits of the moon for a while longer. The only thing that really bound the two groups together was that they were both dependent on the power of belief—which made Sandy wonder how Jack was able to survive for so long without an energy supply to sustain him. It was rare for such a young spirit to have that much power.

". . . still think that we should go look for him."

Sandy broke out of his thoughts and lifted his head up to stare at Tooth, who had just spoken. Then his head swiveled to stare at North, who was combing through his beard and calling softly, "Bagel! Bagel!"

Sandy blinked. Wait, _what?_

He shook his head a few times to clear out his confusion, and noticed that Bunny and Tooth were staring at North like he had gone insane. Well, at least someone else noticed the strangeness of North's behavior.

"Wake _up!_" North said, gently prodding at his beard. But when nothing happened, the Guardian sighed and slumped back in his chair. "It was worth a try."

Sandy exchanged glances with Tooth and Bunny, the latter frowning.

"Uh, mate?" Bunny spoke up, leaning forward. "What exactly were ya doin' with your beard over there?"

"I was trying to wake up Bagel!" the Guardian of Wonder responded crossly. "He went to sleep about one month ago, and hasn't moved since. I have been meaning to ask Jack to help, but—"

"Ya named your beard 'Bagel,'" Bunny said dubiously.

North looked affronted. "No," he said in rebuttal. "Bagel III is little ice bird that Jack made for me when he was injured and had to stay at North Pole."

_Ah,_ Sandy thought. So Jack's frost animals were affected by the fact that their creator was off-season, too.

"I just thought that a creation of Jack's could help us find him," North reasoned. "After all, Wind helped us out last time boy went missing, did it not?"

"That's true," Bunny admitted.

"Then how do we know Jack's okay?" Tooth then burst out, feathers puffing out anxiously.

"Sandy, do you have any idea what has happened to Jack?" North asked, turning the Guardian of Dreams.

Sandy fidgeted in his seat under the other three's scrutinizing looks, his fingers curling tighter around his glass of eggnog. He took a large gulp to avoid answering for at least a few moments, but his mind was whirling.

_What do I say?_ he thought desperately.

But he could only meet the other Guardians' faces, his own face betraying nothing.

* * *

A young woman knelt at the base of a tree, her pale hands pressed against the earthy ground. Words of a dead language tumbled from her lips, and then a small flower poked through the surface.

She smiled.

The spirit of spring, also known as Flora, tended to the flowers, using some of her magic to pull the dying bulbs closer to the surface. _Humans,_ she then thought disdainfully, a frown on her lovely face. _No care for the Earth at all._

She sighed and stood, a warm breeze blowing around her, and she tucked a long strand of blond hair behind her ear. Flora tilted her head at the messenger's words, and nodded, thanking it for telling her.

"So Jack Frost has gone to sleep . . ." she said aloud, her voice as soft as cherry blossoms floating on a spring breeze. The former Roman goddess once again knelt to the ground, a different wave of magic flowing through the earth and across the oceans and to where a certain spirit of winter slept. In a low voice, the spirit of spring began to speak.

_"Marcus Cicero ad tutelam dedi,"_ she murmured, _"spiritus hieme, ex aliquo quod faciat ipsum velle nocere. Ut custodiam rati dormitat. Custodi fluentem temporum cursus, quia, Florae, vere spiritus, dic."_

As she was speaking, dark clouds began to roll over the area, adding additional power to her words. Raindrops fell, but never once struck the maiden of spring. And after the last phrase left her lips, Flora slumped forward, unconscious from the words of the ancient Oath.

* * *

Far away from where Flora was, thick, green tendrils shot up from the mouth of a cave and become rock-solid, melding seamlessly together. The floor outside of the cavern became hot enough to melt flesh, and a cool breeze kept the interior cold, even with all the snow already inside.

And all this was done by the other three Spirits of the Seasons to shield, protect, and hide a slumbering Jack Frost.

* * *

The meeting at the Pole was adjourned soon after, in favor of tracking down their elusive member. The others had decided to split up to cover more ground, and Sandy aimlessly left the Pole. He had just given a shrug when he was asked if he knew what had happened to Jack, but he felt a pang of guilt when he saw Tooth's face fall.

As he flew his plane to Burgess to check if that was still Jack's hiding place, Sandy tried to justify his earlier action by reasoning with himself. It wasn't his place to tell. The hibernation of the seasonal spirits was a closely-guarded secret. It was honestly only by chance that Sandy discovered Jack that night.

Sandy highly doubted that Jack stayed there after being found by him, so if Jack wasn't there, there really might be no way to locate him until it was time for him to wake up.

The Guardian of Dreams landed on the side of Jack's pond, the plane bursting into sparks of gold. He felt somewhat uneasy. Sandy didn't exactly mean to land in this part of Burgess, but he had detected a presence as he flew.

And then She appeared—silently, almost as if from the shadows themselves. She was tall, with long black hair to her waist. A dress of petals of every color imaginable clothed her body, taking upon the state of the season around her. The woman's leaf-green eyes glowed in the dim moon, which was peering over the trees.

So Tsar Lunar was watching as well.

"Emily Jane," Sandy said to Her, using his voice. Sandy had almost forgotten what he sounded like because he hadn't spoken in so long, for fear of waking up the children from their dreams. His voice was soft, almost like a lullaby.

"Sanderson," Mother Nature said in reply. "The winds have informed that you are looking for my son, are you not?"

Sandy nodded. "I am," he replied. "The Guardians are concerned for Jack's wellbeing, but I am reluctant to inform them of your world without your consent."

"My realm is a closely-guarded secret," Mother Nature agreed, her gaze piercing. "But you have helped Jackson for a long time. You have helped my son even when I couldn't be there. I _never_ forget a debt that must be repaid."

The two spirits looked each other in the eye, their love for Jack Frost bringing them to a mutual agreement. For Nature was neither good nor evil, but neutral, so anything could tip the balance.

"I will show you where Jackson rests," Mother Nature decided, green leaves beginning to whirl around them. The viridescent blanket covered his eyes, but Emily Jane's voice still rang clearly through the howling wind.

"I have already called the other Guardians," she said. "It is up to you to explain Jackson's condition to them. And as a price for being told of the Realm of Nature, _all_ of you must help my Lieutenants in their protection of each nature spirit, as you have been doing for my son. Someone should come by soon to help you explain this, because of your—well, voluntary muteness."

The leaves soon cleared from Sandy's vision, and he found himself in front of a cave partially covered by snow on the mountainside of a tall, icy summit, right in the middle of the other three Guardians.

"Sandy?" Bunny asked, looking downright confused. "How'd ya—no. How did _all_ of us get here? We're in the middle o' nowhere!"

"I-I-I'm not sure," Tooth said, her arms wrapped around herself. She huddled next to North, shivering. "I was flying o-over the Atlantic, but then a s-storm of green leaves brought me h-here," she chattered.

"Me too," North said, looking around. "Where are we?"

Sandy had a suspicion that he knew where they were. He formed a globe above his head, an arrow pointing at the bottom of it.

"Antarctica?" Bunny said incredulously, rubbing his arms. "Why are we _here_ of all places?"

"Let us try to clear snow from cave," North said, gently wiping the ice that had begun to accumulate on Tooth's wings. "We will figure out how to get home once we are a little bit warmer."

"Sounds like a good idea ta me," Bunny said, beginning to burrow into the large mound of snow. But when he touched the ground in front of the cave, he hissed and quickly drew his paw back. "What was _that?_" he yelped, staring at his blistered paw in horror. But the damaged fur and flesh slowly began to heal right in front of their eyes.

Bunny frowned as his paw seemingly began to knit itself together. "I normally don't heal that fast . . ." he said slowly.

Sandy looked past the bewildered Pooka and into the small area that had managed to be cleared away. Normally, snow would've blown right into the cave, but Sandy glimpsed thick, green vines barring the entrance.

Then he remembered something that Jack had told him when he had first offered a bag of dreamsand a year after the Fearling's attack. It was so obvious, Sandy felt like smacking his forehead at his obliviousness.

_"Thanks for the offer, Sandy," Jack said with a small grin as he prepared to fly off. "But I don't need any protection, cuz I already am."_

Jack's words had struck him for a moment, but Sandy had soon pushed them aside, continuing to offer the bag of dreamsand for when Jack go into hibernation.

But now Sandy knew. Jack was protected from physical harm because of the other seasonals, but their magic couldn't keep out any nightmares or anything incorporeal . . . which was how the Fearling was able to get in.

Sandy waved frantically at the others to get their attention and quickly created four symbols (a flower, a sun, a leaf, and a snowflake) above his head when they turned to look at him.

"Oh, t-those represent the f-four seasons, right?" Tooth asked, still shivering from the cold.

Sandy nodded eagerly (besides Jack, Tooth was the next best person at translating his sand images) and pointed at the cave.

"I don't understand h-how the seasons r-relate to the c-cave, Sandy," Tooth then said apologetically. "Sorry."

Sandy waved her off in a "It's fine" gesture, then made sand figurines appear behind the earlier symbols. And the one behind the snowflake held a familiar staff in its hands . . .

"It's Jack!" Bunny realized. "So the others must be the other seasonal spirits."

Sandy nodded again, thrilled that they were able to understand. Then he made the image of Jack fall asleep, and the figures of the other seasonals stand in front of the immobile Jack, looking protective.

"Jack's hurt and the other spirits are keeping him captive?" Tooth shrieked, her panic allowing her to speak clearly through her chattering teeth.

Sandy shook his head and presented the same image again, but this time with a tiny "Zzz" above the Jack-figure.

"He's asleep?" Bunny guessed, annoyedly brushing the snow off his fur. "And the other seasonal spirits are . . . protecting him?"

Sandy nodded and cleared the image above his head. Then he formed a snowflake and pointed at the cave.

"Jack is sleeping in there," North said slowly. He, Bunny, and Sandy weren't really that affected by the cold, but it was Tooth who was actually pretty close to danger of freezing.

"So _that's_ why the floor burned me!" Bunny said, understanding now. "The seasonal spirits musta done somethin' ta protect Jack as 'e slept. But"—Bunny frowned—"why's 'e asleep in the first place?"

Before Sandy could figure out a way to express that Jack went into hibernation for three months every year through sand images, a female voice echoed around them.

"That's a good question."

The four Guardians stiffened at the sudden appearance of a slender, young woman with long, blonde hair and spring green eyes.

"Flora," Bunny whispered.

"I had sensed a presence disturbing Jack's Sanctuary," the woman said crisply, a thin green vine beginning to wrap around her arm. "No harm is to come to him, especially one who is Mother Nature's youngest son."

The vine around her arm then slipped into her hand and sharpened into a point.

"H-hey, Flora," Bunny intervened quickly, "we're not tryin' to hurt Jack. We just wanted to make sure 'e was okay, but then a leaf storm brought all of us here and it's_ freezin'_, so can we please take this conversation somewhere else?"

Sandy watched as Flora eyed the half-frozen Guardians, snow beginning to blanket her as well. And then she blinked, her eyes widening in recognition and realization. Her lips formed silent words, and only because Sandy chose to communicate with sand images was he able to catch them. _The Guardians._

"Fine," the young woman who Sandy assumed was to be the spring spirit conceded. "Aster, take us somewhere warmer."

"Uh, right," Bunny said, looking rattled. He tapped his foot on the ground, and the five of them jumped in, North doing so albeit reluctantly.

Sandy tumbled in the tunnels, but then created a skateboard and grinned as he clung to it. This was almost as fun as the loopty-loops at the Pole. He glimpsed sunlight pouring from the end of the tunnel, and he squinted as they entered a lush, green place full of many kinds of plants and flowers.

"Welcome to the Warren," Bunny said, glancing sideways at the indifferent Spirit of Spring.

Flora looked around, before declaring, "Homey." The vine in her hand, however, was still uncomfortably pointy.

"And maybe put the knife away?" Tooth then suggested, flitting nervously. Her feathers and wings had quickly defrosted in the milder air of Bunny's home.

The Spirit of Spring looked down, as if she had just remembered that there was a very dangerous weapon on her. "Oh. Right." The vine softened and curled gently around her arm again, looking deceptively harmless—almost like a strange fashion statement.

"So, what were you going to tell us about Jack?" North prompted, taking a seat on the grassy ground.

"Mother Nature told me that someone would be coming by to where Jack was sleeping," Flora said, joining North on the grass. "I was afraid that she was warning me that someone would try to harm him, so I left before she could tell me anything else." She arranged her skirt before speaking again. "Now that I realize that you're the Guardians, I guess it was a little silly of me to get so worked up. Jack's also one of you, after all."

She then looked at Sandy. "You know about Jack's condition already, don't you, Guardian of Dreams."

Sandy nodded, ignoring the curious looks of the others.

"I was able to catch a few more snippets of Mother's words as we entered Aster's tunnel, and she told me about the price that you guys have to pay for being told about a secret of the Realm of Nature," Flora said. "If I am to tell you this, you will have to help Jack, me, and the other two Lieutenants with our jobs."

"W-wait, hold up," Bunny cut in, waving his paws frantically, "_What_ are we gonna hafta do?"

"I cannot say if you do not concur," Flora said simply.

"We just want to know that Jack's all right," Tooth said desperately. "We became worried when he didn't show up for the meeting yesterday—"

"Then agree to the price," the spring spirit said.

Flora and Sandy watched as the other Guardians held a silent argument, but they all agreed in the end—they would pay whatever price in order to find out what was happening to their youngest member.

"Okay, then," Flora said, shifting in her seat. "As you know, Jack is a winter spirit, right?"

"Yeah . . ." Bunny said slowly.

"But Jack is not just _a_ winter spirit, but he is _the_ Spirit of Winter," Flora explained. "Like I was saying earlier, Jack and I, along with two others, are Mother Nature's main Lieutenants. Like, _capital_ 'L.'"

"I had no idea that boy was that powerful," North said thoughtfully, Tooth and Bunny having a look of agreement on their faces.

"He is," Flora confirmed. "And to be honest, I think he's more powerful than me and the other seasonals. He's only three hundred something years old, and had lived without believers for a huge majority of it. He only got six last year, if my information is correct. Most spirits would fade away if they had nothing for that long.

"But as for me, I was considered a Roman goddess back when Romulus and Remus were still alive," Flora continued. "I had enough believers to sustain me for a while. In this modern day and age, though, there's still a pretty decent amount of people who still believe in me, though they won't admit it to others."

"What does this have to do with Jack, though?" Tooth asked.

"Being a nature spirit is a lot different than being one chosen by the Man in the Moon," Flora explained. "To put it simply, we're kinda like the cycle of life—we all died before becoming an immortal. I was killed when I was twenty-four years of age during a raid. And then Mother Nature brought me back as Flora, Roman goddess and spirit of spring."

"Wait, so does that mean the kid _died_?" Bunny immediately demanded, a look of horror on his face.

Sandy went back to his earlier thoughts. He was wrong when he had assumed that Jack became immortal the same way he, Bunny, North, and Tooth did. What did Jack do that had made him die at such a young age?

"Probably," the spring spirit then replied, shrugging as she turned to look at Bunny. "Jack had no memories of his human life before he was chosen, unlike all of the others. Because after all, we—no matter what kind of spirit we were—were all someone before we were chosen."

"That's what I said to Jack last year, and I felt so awful because he didn't know who he was, and I had his baby teeth in one of the towers at the Tooth Palace from when he was human," Tooth said, looking downcast. "If I had known . . ."

"Hey, it's okay," Bunny said to her. "Jack knows who he was now. He saw his memories. Though we don't know exactly what he had seen, at least he's figured out who he used ta be. And it was enough to make Manny want ta make him a Guardian to help us against Pitch."

Sandy nodded vehemently, giving a thumbs-up as he smiled reassuringly at Tooth.

"So since Jack's a seasonal, though," Flora resumed when everyone was finished talking, "he has to go into hibernation once a year. Once a nature spirit falls asleep until they are needed again, they are _completely _vulnerable to attack. Unlike you Guardians, we're not _fully_ immortal. We're resistant to most injuries, but a really bad one could cause us to fade away. A few winter spirits have died in the past few centuries because of people seeking revenge for ones that they have lost. Winter is usually dubbed the 'season of death,' you see."

"But if someone really got to know Jack, they'd find out that he _hates_ hurting people!" Bunny argued. "He curls up into a ball every time he discovers someone died because of what he has to do!"

"I know that!" Flora said impatiently. "Jack is important to me, and he's important to the other two as well. We—"

"Then why has he been alone for three hundred years?" Bunny shot back.

Flora's eyes widened. Then she bit her lip, a fierce glare settling into her gaze. ". . . Because nature spirits do not socialize well," she said quietly. "Our purpose is to take care of the world, not people. But don't mishear me, Aster—Jack is my _brother_. Though he may overstay his welcome in my season at times, he is still part of my family, and I protect him, even when he doesn't know it. But the _real_ question is why have _you_ four left him alone for three hundred years? Didn't you know that Jack is still a child? Aren't all children under your protection?" she raged.

A strong gale ripped through the trees and leaves at her anger. Flora had stood up during her tirade, and her formerly gentle green eyes were like steel.

Sandy felt ashamed at the young woman's words, and he had no doubt that the others did too.

"Think about what I have said," Flora said coldly, her fists clenched tightly. "You may care for Jack, too, but don't you _dare_ imply that I don't."

It was silent among the five of them as the spring spirit's harsh words begin to settle in. Then she slowly sank back down, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm herself. The wind slowly died down and leaves began to flutter onto the five of them. Then she spoke again as she reopened her eyes.

"I won't apologize for what I have told you, but it is important for you to hear the rest to fully understand what is happening to Jack."

The Guardians nodded mutely, still in shock at the large display of power. It was well-known throughout the spiritual realm that most nature spirits were more intense and volatile with their emotions when compared to others, and that their powers were heavily connected to their state of being. But it was still stunning to witness something like that first-hand, especially from one of the Spirits of the Seasons herself.

Flora began to speak again. "Mother Nature's Lieutenants are the most important to the balance of the world, so we use our powers to protect the one that's asleep. That's why there were barriers around Jack's cave. Jack might've put some protective magic around him, but it's usually not enough. A combination of the other three main Lieutenants is enough to keep him safe.

"Seasonal spirits sleep in their off-season to redraw energy from the Earth's, because they are heavily connected to it," Flora pressed on, absentmindedly playing with the vine around her arm. "And this is what Jack is doing as he hibernates. He is preparing to bring the world winter. He also didn't go didn't go to sleep on time last year because he forced himself to stay awake so that he could help _you_ four regain your lost belief," she said with a pointed frown.

". . . So this means that we won't be seeing much of Jack for another two months?" North asked.

"Ideally," Flora agreed. "Unless winter is scheduled to come early for the Southern Hemisphere this year."

"Sounds like being a seasonal is pretty hard," Tooth said. "I knew that it was difficult for Jack to balance being both a winter spirit and a Guardian, but I never knew the full extent of what he had to do."

Flora nodded. "Yeah. And since I've told you one of the secrets of my realm, I have to give you your price. Sanderson knows what the original terms were, as he was told by Mother herself, but she's agreed to lessen it down some."

"And it is . . . ?" Bunny raised an eyebrow.

"You have to protect Jack during his off-season every year, for as long as all of you are alive," the spring spirit said. "Our magic won't be able to protect him anymore, so it's up to you four to keep him safe. And if I find out that you've let my little brother get hurt—" Flora let the threat hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "There'll be _hell_ to pay, and there will be _nowhere_ that I won't find you. Understand?"

When the Guardians didn't respond, she spoke again. "And don't tell _anyone _what I've just said. The lives of thousands of nature spirits depend on this secret being kept."

Tooth, Bunny, and North then quickly voiced their agreement, and Sandy had to repress the grin that threatened to appear on his face. Flora was tiny compared to them, and the Guardians were _terrified_ of her!

Then Flora turned to Sandy and winked. "Keep doing what you're doing, won't you? And keep an eye on Jack for me. I won't be there to protect him all the time."

Sandy grinned and gave a salute, and the Spirit of Spring smiled back warmly and turned on her bare heel, striding out of the Warren through Bunny's tunnels. Three stunned and confused Guardians and a silently laughing one were left behind her.

* * *

**Some Helpful Tidbits:**

Emily Jane and Tsar Lunar are the names for Mother Nature and MiM respectively, in the books.

**English translation for Flora's earlier words (I used Google Translate for this, so please don't kill me!):** _"I give my protection to Jack Frost, spirit of winter, from anything that might want to cause him harm. Keep him safe as he slumbers. Keep the cycle of the seasons flowing, for I, Flora, spirit of spring, command this."_

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Guest:** Hahaha, probably. We have Jack to thank for all those weird snowstorms and freezing rain. And we're getting _more _snow? Wow . . .


	10. Pi(e) Day

**A/N: **Your irregularly-scheduled updates/requests should continue soon—I just had a huge surge of inspiration yesterday, and I just _had _to get this down. I promise that it's not as long as "A Secret Well-Kept," though. xD

And of course, pi day was on March 14, 2015 (3.1415 . . .), so this is a little late. ^^; But I wrote something just to celebrate, haha. Why _can't _there be a pi day special? There are Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Valentine's Day specials, so I did one on a holiday that's just a _little_ bit more obscure. Oh, and none of these chapters are really in any sort of chronological order, though I may draw some bits of information from some of the previous sections.

Don't fault me for what's going to happen in the chapter—Jack's been around for a while. You can't be alive for that long without picking at least _something _up.

**And a Bit of a Challenge:**

Anyone want to guess the significance of March 15 to me? Besides it being the Ides of March, the day that Julius Caesar was assassinated (brief history lesson right there xP), I want to hear some guesses. No prize, but here's a hint—**I've made a little bit of a reference in this chapter. **Happy guessing, and enjoy! :)

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**Pi(e) Day**

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**Chapter Summary: **It's a certain day of the year, and an unsuspecting Jack learns a lesson from his first believer.

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On March 14, 2015, Jack Frost found himself back in Burgess, flying through the familiar streets that led to a certain believer's house. Complaints about the "unexplainable" chill by pedestrians made a smirk form on his face, but he waved cheerfully at the excitable little kids who hopped up and down, tugged on their parents' coat sleeves, and shouted hello as he swooped in and around traffic.

It always made Jack feel uncharacteristically warm when he felt the small _click_ of a new believer in his center, and he could sense that a _huge_ majority of them were from his hometown—Burgess. It was actually all thanks to Jamie Bennett, who eagerly told stories of the Guardians to the younger kids, who told their friends, and who told _their_ friends.

The sun was still shining when Jack lightly tapped on Jamie's window around 4:30, making frost spiral out from his touch. He grinned when the boy jumped a little in his seat upon hearing the sudden crackling noise of the rapidly-icing glass, but Jamie quickly scrambled out of his chair and rushed to fling open the window.

"Hi, Jack!" Jamie greeted breathlessly as the said winter spirit floated outside.

"Hey, kiddo," Jack said, ruffling his hair. "Just wanted to see how my best friend was doing before spring came. What's up?"

"Nothing much, but today's pi day," the twelve-year-old offered, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "My school's been raving about it all week. Apparently, a day like this only comes once every 100 years or something."

"Pie day?" Jack echoed dubiously, letting himself in and joining the boy on his walk down the stairs. He frowned as a mental picture of the popular dessert formed in his mind. He had tried it before, but never really understood _why _people liked it so much.

"Yeah, like the math pi," the brunette confirmed. "3.14 and all that."

Jack's eyes lit up with understanding, the vague image in his head forgotten. "Oh, like Archimedes's pi? I know how to do that. I walked into a math class one day when I was bored and learned about it."

Jamie blinked. "_You,_ Jack Frost, Guardian of _Fun,_ voluntarily stepped into a _school?_ You give _snow days_ for crying out loud!" he said incredulously. "Are you okay? And can Guardians even get sick?"

"Apparently," Jack said, mulling over the time that he had crashed into a desert a couple years ago. "But yeah. I had never really learned about math like that back when I was a human, so I sat down in the back and listened to the teacher talk about it. It was pretty interesting, to be honest. I can even say pi to the 15th decimal place, see? It's 3.141592653—"

"Jack, I never realized that you were such a nerd," Jamie teased, elbowing him.

"Ah, guilty as charged," he said good-naturedly. "And I even read. I read books that I borrowed from the school all the time to my little sister back when I was a human. Oh, but don't tell Bunny about my secret 'nerdiness.' He still thinks that I can't read a stop sign."

Jamie laughed. "There's a lot that the other Guardians don't know about you, huh."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "I think that I've told you a lot more than I did them. Sometimes I forget exactly _what_ I've said to them, and accidentally let something slip. It causes both me _and_ them a little bit of a mental breakdown every single time."

"Mmm," Jamie said sympathetically. Then, "I'm gonna go ask my mom if we can walk around to the park. We'll be able to talk more there."

Jack nodded and waited by the front door, examining the photos that lined the hallway. There were a few color pictures of Jamie, Sophie, and their parents, but there were also a few drawings by the two Bennett children hung up in frames.

It wasn't like that Jack didn't know this, but Jamie was actually an _amazing_ artist—the shading he did made the artwork seem to look realistic, almost like a photograph. And it also earned him some attention at school that the somewhat shy, imaginative boy needed.

"Hey, Jack," Jamie called, walking to the door and drawing the winter spirit's attention away from the photos on the wall. "She said yes, as long as I get home before dark."

Jack frowned thoughtfully, squinting out the window. "So . . . that leaves us about an hour. That should be fine."

They walked out the front door and through the loose board in the fence. "The first day of spring is on Friday," Jamie said, "so I guess that means I won't be seeing much of you until around the beginning of fall, right?"

"Right," Jack said, stretching and placing the length of his staff on his shoulders as he walked next to his first believer. "But I'll be back as soon as I can for the first snow day of the year!"

Jamie beamed. "Great!"

Normally, it would be dangerous for a kid to be out alone on the streets of a city, but Jamie definitely _wasn't_ alone, because after all—he had a Guardian watching out for him. A Guardian who would _never_ let his best friend get hurt.

"Oh, and back to what we were talking about before," Jamie said, continuing their earlier conversation, "reading's cool, though. I also kinda want to write a story about you and all the Guardians when I get older. But for now, I think that you're gonna help me with _all_ of my math homework from now on," he said decisively.

"Find me a good series to read, write the first few pages of that book, and _then_ we'll talk," Jack bargained. "But don't _ever_ ask me about biology or any kind of science. I don't really see the point in it, and I think that meteorology's pretty much a joke," he said dismissively. "It's all just a bunch of humans—no offense, Jamie—trying to figure out what it is that me and the other seasonals do."

The younger boy shrugged. "None taken. But I do get where you're coming from, though. Some of my classmates got mad at me when I told them that that the 'Snowmaggedon 2015' thing expected to hit our area wasn't going to. I'm getting my snow day information from the guy who makes them—a.k.a. _you—_anyway, so it didn't really bother me. It was worth it to see their faces when we got back."

Jack laughed. The "threat" had caused some schools to close the day before, and it was really funny seeing all the kids grumbling about how all that panic was for nothing.

"True. But c'mon—we should be heading back now, Jamie. It's getting a little dark," Jack said, pulling the slightly shorter boy close. "I don't want to give your mom a heart attack."

Jamie pulled his gaze away from the rapidly-appearing stars in the darkening sky. "Hey, Jack, since it's a Saturday, do you want to stay over for the night? I'll even ask Mom if I can make popcorn after dinner, and I'll look in the fridge for some leftover pie. And then we can watch a movie so we can celebrate both pi day today _and _my half-birthday tomorrow."

Jack grinned at that. "Sounds good to me, but you can have the pie. How to Train Your Dragon marathon?" he asked.

"Definitely," Jamie affirmed, a smile of his own appearing on his face. "I still have to thank North for giving me all of the DVD's for Christmas."

"Don't worry, I'll tell him," Jack assured the younger boy. Then his grin became a little mischievous. "So hey, Jamie, since we're a little deep in town, _and _it might take a while to reach your house before it gets dark . . . wanna head home a different way?"

Jamie's face lit up. "Can we?" he asked excitedly, knowing _exactly _what Jack was talking about.

The winter spirit winked. "Hold on tight, kiddo," he said, lifting Jamie onto his back.

And if the residents of Burgess did a double-take upon seeing young Jamie Bennett whooping and flying through the air . . .

Well, they had seen stranger things.

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Em: **Oh, thanks so much! :)


	11. Resemblances

**A/N: **Agh, I should probably post this now I've already made _so many revisions _and I think it's about time you guys got an update and—whoa. Deep breaths. Calm down there, self. No run-on, panicky sentences for you. xD

Eh, I feel like this chapter's a little weird and/or kinda off. (._.) But even so, please enjoy! :D

**Disclaimer (x2 because I forgot it last chapter): **I do not own RotG.

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**Resemblances**

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**Chapter Summary: **Jack had never realized how similar Jamie looked to his little sister. It's only coincidence, right?

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_Foggy, blurry, fast-moving shapes_  
_Suddenly solidifying into warm brown eyes_  
_Long brown hair_  
_A kind smile_  
_An exuberant laugh—_  
_One that calls his name._

* * *

Jack tilted his head as Mother Nature's words whispered in his ear through Wind, telling him what places needed snowstorms. And a grin spread across his face when he was told that the northeastern United States was due for a snow day or two . . .

"Wind, take me home!" Jack yelled, his grin still on his face as he bounced slightly on the electrical wires, frost beginning to coat them.

The winter spirit whooped loudly as he soared through the air, countless snowflakes along for the ride. The darkened sky quickly blended to a bright blue as Jack arrived on the East Coast, continuing upon his course. He flew over his pond, down the streets, and slowed, landing lightly on the steps in front of Burgess Middle School. He reached to tug on the handles of the door, but much to his annoyance—they were locked.

Jack's grin quickly faded into a frown. He then turned around and flew up, glancing quickly into each window, searching for Jamie. The windows were locked tight, and Jack's irritation was steadily growing. And not for the first time, he wished that he could phase through the glass like Baby Tooth. It was something that they could do so that they could enter a child's room more quietly and not wake them up.

And this was something that really irritated Jack. Spirits were only invisible/intangible to _humans_, not objects or animals. A locked door would keep him out, he could set off a car alarm . . . it annoyed him so much.

There was something strange about the human brain, Jack mused, twirling his staff absentmindedly. Maybe there was something in there that couldn't process the unexplainable, hence the reason why it was mostly children who comprehended the idea of belief.

As Jack tugged at each of the windows, frost began covering the handles, making him jerk his hand back. Once, he glimpsed Pippa and Cupcake sitting quietly in a classroom, probably taking a test, but no Jamie.

_Maybe he's at lunch?_ Jack wondered, beginning to feel like giving up after his countless fruitless attempts to break into the school. He checked one last window just for the heck of it, and that was where he found his first believer.

The teacher was lecturing about some sciencey thing that Jack couldn't make any sense of, and Jamie looked as confused as Jack felt. The words were muffled and unclear, but as the teacher kept talking, a look of understanding began to grow on the younger boy's face.

The kids were all writing in their copybooks, taking notes, but then they began gathering everything together as the bell rang. Jamie looked like he was hanging back, and Jack hovered outside the window as the boy began talking to his teacher—probably about the lesson that he was just taught.

But after about two minutes, Jack started getting impatient, and so he rapped on the window, trying to get Jamie's attention. Both the teacher and Jamie turned to stare at where the noise came from, and the eleven-year-old's eyes widened considerably upon seeing the winter spirit floating there.

"Must've been a bird," the teacher said sympathetically, turning back to Jamie. "Poor thing. But off you go, James—you don't want to be late for lunch."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," he replied uncertainly, glancing back every once in a while at the window. "See you tomorrow!"

The teacher left, and as soon as the door closed, and Jamie was the only one left in the room, he dropped his books and ran over to the window, pulling it open. "Jack?" he whispered urgently. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"I'm joining my friend for the last few hours of school before a snow day cancels it tomorrow," Jack said simply, wriggling through the slim space between the window and the outdoors. "You know, stuff like that."

"Well, um, sure," Jamie floundered, clearly at a loss as what to do. "You can sit with me and the others during lunch. We'll just give you an extra spot on the bench, okay?"

"Okay!" Jack agreed cheerily, swinging his staff so that it rested on his shoulder. "Now lead the way . . . _James_."

"Jack!" Jamie protested, whacking him with his copybook.

Jack laughed.

* * *

Jamie gathered his books from his locker, mentally reciting his schedule for the afternoon. He had Social Studies, Math . . . his face then lit up when he realized what he had at the end of the day. He had _Art._

"Uh, let's go, Jack," Jamie said as he turned to face the winter spirit, his lunchbox hanging from his arm as he adjusted the books in his hands. "The cafeteria's downstairs."

Jamie felt a little _weird_ being shadowed by his somewhat invisible best friend, but he appreciated the fact that the Guardian decided to show up and visit . . . even if it _was_ at school.

They made their way down the stairs and through the cafeteria doors. Jamie's eyes swept quickly around the room, searching for a familiar face. He then relaxed when he saw all of them sitting at the table next to the stage, waiting for him with curious looks upon their faces. The eleven-year-old then hurried over and sat down next to Pippa, who leaned over and whispered, "Um, Jamie, you know that Jack Frost is next to you, right?"

"Yeah, he showed up during science and made Mrs. Campbell think that he was a bird," he whispered back. "He says that there's gonna be a snow day."

"Cool," the girl said appreciatively.

The rest of lunch went by a little uneventfully, save for the shrieks of the third graders from across the room when they discovered that Jack Frost himself was in their school. Jamie found himself mobbed at the end of the period, and he grabbed Jack's arm to avoid being torn away from the group.

Jack had flown up to avoid being passed through by some of the other children, and since Jamie was still holding his hand, so he ended up floating a few inches off the ground . . . thank goodness for oblivious teachers.

The six friends then walked upstairs with everyone else to go to their next class, all too aware of their "invisible" friend trailing them.

"Jack, are you going to be following us all day?" Monty whispered, looking up at the boy.

"I think so," Jack replied, still casually floating above them. "I'm gonna be here for a few days to set down a few snowstorms, anyway, and I was bored, so I decided to come see you guys."

"It's gonna be fun, Monty," Jamie promised, looking at his blonde friend. "After all, Jack's the Guardian of it."

"If you say so, Jamie . . ." the bespectacled boy said uncertainly.

* * *

The next two classes passed by, for the most part, relatively smoothly. Jack was a perfect not-student, sitting quietly in the back and only _occasionally_ walking up to the front of the room and making faces behind the teacher. Jamie and his friends were fighting the urge not to laugh whenever Jack did something like that, and apparently some other kids in the room saw Jack, too, given the barely-concealed grins on their faces.

Jamie was glad that his friend was gaining so many believers, plus the fact that he still always made time to see him whenever he wasn't busy with his Guardian duties or as the Spirit of Winter.

And pretty soon, it was time for Art—Jamie's favorite class. His teacher was this wonderful lady who supported everyone's artistic ability, and she always tried to help everyone improve.

Jamie had taken to sketching some scenes of the battle with Pitch that took place earlier this year, on the night of Easter, and now that Jack was actually here to be a model for his art, Jamie thought that everything would be much better.

"Okay, class," Ms. Jacobs said brightly, "since we've just finished that big project, I think it's about time that we do something fun! Choose something to draw—it can be an object, your hand, a person . . . the possibilities are endless! We're going to keep working on it for . . ."

Jamie quietly reached out for one of the bigger pencils and erasers in the middle of the table as Ms. Jacobs spoke. Art was a homeroom class, and the boy was thankful that all of his friends were in it, and that they could also understand exactly what it was that he was drawing. They were also allowed to choose their seats, so the six of them (plus Jack) had migrated over to their usual table when they arrived in the room.

"Hey, Jack," Jamie then said a little shyly, "do you mind if I draw your staff?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure," Jack said distractedly, reaching for the aged stick that had been propped against the edge of the table. "Oh, and do you think I can draw something, too?"

"I think so," Pippa said, flicking her pencil back and forth as she looked at her paper. "But won't it be a little weird to see a floating pencil in an empty seat?" Her brows furrowed. "What would it even _look_ like to someone who can't see you?"

"I dunno, but it'd be the best thing ever!" Claude cheered, while his twin nodded vehemently in agreement.

"Just do whatever you want, Jack," Cupcake said, not glancing up as she sketched the rough outline of a horse.

"I will, then," Jack decided. "I have the most _perfect_ idea."

The next forty or so minutes consisted of Jack working furiously on whatever it was that he was drawing, and Jamie penciling in details of Jack's staff on his paper. The staff had a pretty easy shape, and it only needed a few shadows here and there to make it look older and more realistic . . .

Jamie reached for a sky-blue colored pencil to draw some of the ice designs that curled in and around the staff, and as he did so, he caught a quick glance from Jack, who was across from him.

Before he started drawing, Jack had instructed that _no one_ look at what he was doing, and so the six of them obediently kept their heads down, working diligently. Jamie was curious, but out of consideration for his friend, he kept his focus on his own drawing, deciding to ask about it later.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the period and soon to be the end of the day, Jack quickly creased his paper and tucked it into his hoodie pocket, getting his staff off the table.

He waited patiently as Jamie and his friends packed up, and joined them as they walked out of the school.

"I'll see you later, guys," Jack said as they sat under a tree, the kids waiting for the bus. "I still have to lay down a few inches of snow around the area. I'll be back tomorrow to hang out with you guys—promise!"

Jack pushed himself off of the ground and was about to call Wind, but Jamie then suddenly stood up and hugged Jack tightly. "Bye, Jack," he whispered, fisting the blue fabric of the winter spirit's hoodie.

Jack's eyes had widened, surprised at the sudden contact. It was so reminiscent of that first hug, on the cool surface of Jack's pond, where he had been sworn in as a Guardian. But he smiled, turning around to face his first believer . . . his best friend. "See you, Jamie," Jack said softly, crouching down and hugging the child just as tightly.

* * *

Night was falling when Jack came back from making a storm a little down south of where Burgess was. Wind was sure to push it up the coast early tomorrow morning, making a clean, efficient snow day for the inhabitants of the town.

Jack landed on a tree branch that overlooked his pond and sat down, his legs swinging freely in the air. He hung the crook of his staff on the branch, then took out the piece of paper that he had worked on in Jamie's art class. He unfolded it, still struck by how much Jamie resembled her. It was the eyes and the quirk of their lips when they smiled. Jack was sure of it.

He had been drawing from memory, from the memory-dream that he had the night before. Jack smiled nostalgically, tracing the smiling face, the bright hazel eyes, the straight brown hair that he had an urge to sweep behind her ear . . .

Tears welled up in his eyes and he roughly wiped them away.

He missed his sister so much—and that dream only served to remind him of how far away she was. Jack didn't even know who she married, or if she even moved away from Burgess, so there was really no material object to remind him of her.

And so he drew her to the best of his abilities. As he stared at the pencil strokes that made up the face of his most precious person, he spoke. "H-hey, Em," he croaked, staring up at the sky. "I remembered some more last night. We were dancing in the town square, and you had the most beautiful smile on your face. You looked so pretty that I thought I would have to fend off the other boys with Papa's staff," he joked. "I had promised to myself the night you were born that I would protect you and keep you safe. And I know that I said I'd play so many tricks on any boy that tried to court you, but I really wish that I could've been there at your wedding, little lady. I would've been the loudest in the crowd."

Jack smoothed out the creases in the paper before continuing. "A snow day's due for this area tonight. I went to visit Jamie and his friends at their school, and I just realized how similar the two of you look. How strange would that be, to have my best friend be your great-great-great-whatever-grandson? But I guess that could be wishful thinking," he said, laughing softly.

He stood up, grabbing his staff and placing the drawing back into his hoodie pocket. "I'll tell you if I remember more, okay? I'll come back soon. Promise."

* * *

The next day, Jamie scrambled out of bed and peered out his window, pressing his hands on the cool surface. He gasped in wonder upon seeing drifts of fluffy, white snow blanketing the streets, houses, and trees, and a smile began to unconsciously grow on his face. And when he saw Jack making a snowman in the front yard, Jamie's grin widened, making him tap on the glass excitedly.

The winter spirit paused in his snowman-making, distracted by the sound. Jamie tapped on the glass again, and Jack turned to the source of the noise. A smile appeared on the winter spirit's face when their eyes locked, and Jamie waved at him, Jack waving back enthusiastically.

The boy soon blew out of his front door—not before being stopped by his mother with his green hat, of course—slowing to a stop in front of the Spirit of Winter.

"Hi, Jack," Jamie said breathlessly, looking up at him.

Jack smiled and reached down to adjust his hat. "Hey, kiddo."

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Pippalina: **Haha, you're welcome! I really loved that idea, too. And it _is _a little concerning how the other seasonals can't protect him anymore—I know that Flora's not too happy about that. I sort of implied that it was also part of the price, and I think it's really cool how Jack is the bridge between the two main types of spirits. I mean, he's Mother Nature's Lieutenant, _plus _a Guardian under the Man in the Moon. As for Autumn and Summer, I _think _that I have ones chosen for those roles, but I still have to do a little more searching/poking around to really be definite on the two. Any suggestions? And Flora's so great. She's like the older sister I never had (I'm the oldest, so I also kinda put myself in her position, with my little brother as the model for Jack when she got all fierce and protective, haha), and I'm imagining the other seasonals to be the same way too. _No one _messes with their family! Oh, and wow, this is really long, but you had a nice, long review which I _loved_ reading, and so you get a long, detailed reply. :)

**Regality: **I was _hoping _that the ending would draw out a few laughs from a few of you, and it looks like I succeeded. Yayy! :D And a half-birthday is six months (so basically half the year) _after_ your birthday. So for example, if Jamie turned twelve on September 15, he would be twelve-and-a-half on March 15. Hence the term "half-birthday." Does that make sense? Sorry if it doesn't. ^^; It's just something fun I thought I'd put in.

**Crossover Junkie: **Oh, well, happy day of birth to your niece! :D And thanks _so_ much—glad to know you like them. :)

**Angelicat2: **Well, pi day is an annual thing. 3/14 is _always _pi day. It's just that math people were freaking out because 3/14/15 were the first few numbers that made it up. Hehehe . . . these are the first few looks in the random, insane mind that is mine. xD

**Fandomcrazy: **I enjoyed your snoopy dance. xD And I also like when the Guardians get called out for ignoring Jack's predicament for so long. It makes for such fun (or angsty, depending on the writer) writing. xP

Oh, goodness, _so many reviews! _I nearly cried tears of joy when I saw them all. You people are _lovely. _:3


	12. Important Things

**A/N: ***glances guiltily at the calendar* Um, well, hi. Guess who's back? (Back again)

Soooo yup, this loser's back after so long—I swear that I was working on things, though!—and now I _finally_ have an update for you amazing followers. Yayyy!

This chapter is a follow-up to "A Secret Well-Kept" (check Chapter Nine for a refresher if you want—I know it's been a while!), which I thought a lot of people, including myself, needed.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own RotG.

Enjoy! :D

* * *

**Important Things**

* * *

.

**Chapter Summary: **Jack finally wakes up from his three-month nap, and there are questions to be asked.

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Time had no meaning to the North Wind. It was a silly human thing, so she wasn't bothered with each rise and fall of the moon and the sun.

The Wind was timeless. Through the three human months that her winterchild slept, she waited patiently. She was content to stay by her boy's side for as long as was needed.

Wind then glanced over at the sleeping child, and felt for the familiar energy of the earth being absorbed by the Spirit of Winter. But the pull had recently begun to weaken with each passing phase of the Moon, and so she realized that the rejuvenation period was coming to a close.

It was time for the boy to awaken.

Wind turned away from her sleeping frostchild and slipped through the enchantments of Lady Spring, and the heralds of Summer and Autumn. Once out, she traveled to the golden island of the man of sand, for he was the one who could understand her best. But Wind still struggled to translate her Language into something that the Guardian would be able to comprehend. If Wind had a face, she would be frowning as he stared at her in confusion. Why couldn't he understand her like her frostchild did?

But the man of sand eventually _did_ figure out what Wind was trying to say. He smiled and gave a slight bow (making Wind metaphorically puff up with pride), then flew off—presumably to the north. And when Wind had returned to retrieve her boy, the Northern Lights were already activated.

If Wind had a mouth, she would have smiled.

She was glad for these people. They would take better care of her dearest one than she ever could.

* * *

Nature magic worked in strange ways. It was what supplied each spirit under Mother Nature (and to an extent—some Moon-Chosen, such as Aster Bunnymund) with energy. Seasonal spirits drew their power from the earth, but some of the more powerful ones had to take more, leading them to sleep for a longer period of time to regain that lost energy.

And as for Jack Frost . . .

Jack sat up in his snowbank and rubbed his eyes, a confused expression on his face. He gazed around the cave, at the rocky walls, and then he realized . . . it had all been a dream.

The sadness and confusion in his mind quickly vanished when Jack felt the slightest rumble in his stomach.

Oh. He was hungry.

The thought startled him because though he _did_ enjoy eating every once in a while, he didn't really _need_ to. But food sounded really good right now . . .

The second thought came immediately after the first, and it was about how stiff he felt. Snowbanks were very comfortable (to him, at least), but even Jack Frost would feel the need to stretch after lying in the same position for such a long time.

"Ugh, I feel sore," he mumbled groggily, grabbing his staff and running a hand through his hair as he walked to the mouth of the cave. His staff gave a faint blue glow in the dimness, and Jack stopped and stared, open-mouthed, at the thick, green vines barring the cave entrance.

"Flora," he grumbled under his breath. "Jeez, your enchantments get more legit each year."

Jack raised a pale hand to the vines, and they slowly sank back down into the rocky ground. Unfortunately, the snow buildup on the other side avalanched on top of him, earning an undignified "_Eep!_" from the Spirit of Winter.

"Flora, I swear that one day I'm gonna kill you," he muttered as he sat up from the pile of snow, shaking his head to remove the fluffiness sitting on top of it.

Jack was definitely _not_ a morning person.

When he stepped outside, all the protective magic made by the other two seasonals fell away as well. Jack was about to fly around for a while around his cave to relieve and stretch out his tight muscles when he noticed the Northern Lights (or would it be Southern, given his location?) shimmering in the sky.

"Already?" Jack said, mouth agape. "But I just woke—!" Then he sighed, leaning heavily on his staff. "Guess I better go, then. Wind, take me to the North Pole."

Jack shot off of the mountain, the coldness in the thin air beginning to sharpen his previously-dulled senses. The leftover sleep and crankiness were shaken off with each mile he flew, and he had honestly never felt better. The energy that he regained from his three-month-long nap began to kick in, and he smiled blissfully as Wind tousled his hair.

And in about thirty minutes, Jack was at the North Pole.

He flew through the open window, landing lightly on the red carpet in the Globe Room. Frost traveled from his toes and spiraled outwards as he walked toward the already-assembled Guardians. He raised a hand in hello and grinned. "Hey, guys. What's up? Last time I checked, a meeting wasn't supposed to be scheduled for anoth—"

"Hi, Jack!" Tooth greeted with a warm smile. "How was your nap?"

Jack froze in his tracks and stared at her, wide-eyed. How did Tooth know that he went to sleep? Then he relaxed marginally, reasoning that maybe they thought that he had been asleep before getting here because his hair was messy, but his hair was _always_ messy and oh Moon, if Tooth really knew about his off-season Mother was going to _kill_ him—

His alarm must've shown on his face because Bunny looked up from his sketchbook and said flatly, "Calm yerself down, Frostbite. We know about your 'hibernation' and all that stuff. Flora told us."

Jack gaped, doing an interesting impression of a dying fish. "_Flora?_" he sputtered, waving his staff wildly. "What—how—" Then he cleared his throat and pronounced firmly, "I have absolutely _no_ idea of who or _what_ you're talking about."

"Cut the act, Frostbite," Bunny said, looking slightly irritated. "_We know._ And you're a terrible liar, too," he added.

Jack then slumped, sighing. "I guess you do, then, don't you," he said, admitting defeat. "I mean, it would've been hard to keep from you guys for this long."

"How are you feeling, Jack?" North asked kindly.

"Pretty energized," the winter spirit said, taking the seat next to Sandy. "Kinda like I downed a jillion cups of coffee—if I drank any, that is. And a little hungry, too." Then he frowned thoughtfully. "How do you guys know Flora anyway?"

"She, ah . . . kinda threatened ta kill us when we were brought ta your cave by a leaf storm," Bunny said lightly.

Jack laughed, pulling his legs to his chest. "She tends to do that a lot. Flora's really overprotective." Then he paused, a slight frown upon his face as he propped his chin on his knees. "Wait, you were brought to my _cave?_"

Sandy nodded solemnly at that, while Tooth laughed softly. "That's a little bit of an understatement about Flora," she said. "And, um, we wanted to ask you something, Sweet Tooth. Flora told us something the other day—something that we had never realized about nature spirits." She bit her lip and glanced at Bunny, who was seated next to her.

The Pooka let out a deep breath and set his sketchbook on his lap. "She told us that all nature spirits died before becomin' immortal, Frostbite. We wanted ta know what happened ta ya."

Jack stiffened, his hands clenching into fists in his lap as his feet slid back to the floor. The way Bunny said it made it seem like that it wasn't _normal_ for spirits like them to have died . . . did this mean that Jack wasn't like them? Was he different _again?_

"No. She's lying," he denied, immediately going on the defensive. "I was chosen just like all you were."

North shook his head. "Jack, it is okay. You can tell us."

"I can't," Jack said stubbornly. "I-I won't."

Jack didn't know why he was so adamant about this. He trusted the Guardians _so much,_ but he absolutely refused to tell them. They couldn't know.

It wasn't like he _regretted_ saving his sister and giving up his life in return—he would do it a million times over just to make sure that she was safe. It was just that this made him feel . . . different than the others. It was just something that felt like should be kept a secret, and it felt shameful to say it aloud, almost like he wasn't clean. He didn't want to be singled-out because he _died_ before becoming the Spirit of Winter, and later the Guardian of Fun.

He stood up, gripping his staff so hard that sparks of frost started to burst out. "I need to go and clear my head," Jack muttered, turning to leave. But as he tried to hurry away, something snagged on the back of his hoodie.

He turned, and saw the worried faces of the other Guardians. Sandy had grabbed onto his sleeve to stop him from leaving, and symbols flashed quickly above his head. Jack had gotten better at reading them, and so he got the gist of it—_We won't care about what you tell us. You are still you, and nothing you say will _ever_ stop us from caring about you._

Sandy gave a more insistent tug on Jack's hoodie as he "spoke," making Jack sigh softly. "You really want to know then, huh. What do you want to know first?" he reluctantly said, plopping back down in his seat.

"What year did Mother Nature bring you back?" Tooth immediately asked.

"1712," Jack replied, staring resolutely at his bare feet. "But I think that it was the Man in the Moon who did . . . because he talked to me and told me my name. And I guess that Mother had some say—or all, I dunno—in what kind of spirit I became. My birth—er, _re_birth—was a little weird."

North asked his question next. "Jack . . . how was it that you died?"

_Ah, dropping the question that no one else wanted to ask,_ the winter spirit mused, looking up to meet North's gaze.

"I saved my sister," Jack then said quietly. "We were on the pond, ice-skating." A bittersweet smile worked itself upon his face with thoughts of the little girl. "She was so excited that she was old enough to finally learn _how_ to skate, and she dragged me on the ice as I was about to put on my own skates. Since I never actually got a chance to put them on, I had them in my hands as I ran onto the pond with her. And of course," he said with a small laugh, "she already had laced up her skates earlier."

But the smile on his face began to slowly fall away as Jack continued to speak. "The ice was a _lot_ thinner than we realized, though. It began cracking under her feet, and I was _terrified_—but I kept a brave face on. There was no need to scare her even more. And I . . . I made a game—hopscotch, actually—and I managed to switch our positions with my staff so that she would be on the thicker part of the ice. And I fell in the water instead of her."

Tooth had gasped sharply as he was speaking, bringing her hands up to her mouth. "Jack," she then said, her voice soft, "that was very brave of you. It's no wonder the Man in the Moon wanted you as a Guardian."

Jack shrugged, voicing his earlier thoughts aloud. "I guess. But I would die a million times over just to make sure that my sister survived. She means—um, _meant_," he corrected quickly, "the world to me."

Jack blamed his grammar mistake on the fact that he spent the entirety of the three months during his off-season having dreams of being human again—not the Spirit of Winter, not the Guardian of Fun, and not even Jack Frost—just being Jackson Isaac Overland, Emma's brown-haired, brown-eyed older brother.

And he missed her . . .

Sandy tapped his shoulder, and formed an image of a calendar above his head, the months quickly flipping from one to the next.

"How old was I when that happened?" Jack guessed, tilting his head. At Sandy's nod, he hesitantly spoke. "I was fourteen."

"So young?" Tooth whispered sadly.

"I actually wasn't sure how old I really was until Easter last year," Jack admitted, fiddling with the folds on his hoodie. "I knew that I had been alive for three hundred years, but then I added on an extra fourteen later."

"Thank you for telling us, Jack," North said, giving a small smile. "I know that it must have been hard, but we are glad you did so."

Jack sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Well, _this_ was emotionally exhausting," he quipped, his voice slightly muffled due to the fact that his face was covered by his hands.

Bunny snorted. "Well said, Frostbite."

A smile slipped onto Jack's face as lifted his head up to look at the Pooka. "Aww, you _do_ care," he teased, giving the Guardian his best innocent look.

"Rack off, ya bloody show pony," Bunny replied without blinking an eye, or looking up from whatever he was drawing. Then he grinned, ripping out the sheet of paper and handing it to Jack. "Get it in your head, Snowflake. We _do_ care, and don't ya forget it."

Jack laughed, leaning across the table to grab the paper from Bunny. "Yeah, I know." He glanced down at the page, and was surprised to see what was on it. It turned out that Bunny was actually painting, not drawing.

"Bunny . . . what is this?" he asked, looking back up.

"It's _all_ of us, ya little larrikin," the Guardian said impatiently, though a proud sort of look was on his face. "I thought that ya'd be like this when we tried ta ask about some of the touchy subjects, and so I've spent the month tryin' ta add you. Wasn't able ta get the eyes right, but I fin'lly finished when ya arrived."

"We missed you, Jack," Tooth said, a loving smile on her face. "It's a little quiet when you're not here."

"I bet it was," he murmured distractedly, his eyes roaming over the painting again. Jack traced the contours of his tiny drawing-self's pale, smiling face, and wondered if that was really him. It was a remarkable likeness, actually, but did the real him smile that brightly and so carefreely?

Then—

Yes. He did. Jack had never noticed it before, but he seemed to be smiling a lot more now than before. He placed the painting on the table, not comfortable with folding it up and sticking it in his hoodie.

Sandy then reached over and hugged him around his middle, earning a startled "Hey!" from the winter spirit and making him drop his staff in surprise. And before he knew it, North and Tooth had come over as well, their arms surrounding him.

"What are you doing?" Jack demanded, trying to wriggle out of their grips (though he secretly enjoyed it).

A large, furry paw then landed on his head, and Jack twisted around, staring into amused green eyes. "It's called a _hug_, Snowflake," Bunny said, smirking. "People give 'em to each other."

Jack huffed, throwing the Pooka an irritated glare. Bunny's smirk grew at that, annoying Jack even further. "Whatever, Cottontail," he grumbled, ignoring the fact that Bunny was ruffling his already-messy hair.

Jack was freed from the grips of the other three Guardians, and Tooth fluttered back a few paces and said, "You know you can come talk to me anytime you'd like, Sweet Tooth. About your memories. And I actually have your sister's, if you can believe it."

Jack had been retrieving his staff from where it had clatted onto the floor, but at Tooth's words, his fingers fumbled and the staff slipped from his grip. "W-what?" he stuttered, looking up at her with large, blue eyes. "You have Emma's—"

Tooth nodded, saying, "I found them when I was sorting through all of the tooth boxes. We were able to retrieve her last tooth by the time she turned . . . thirteen, I think, but—"

Jack shot up from the floor and barreled over to her, enveloping the fairy into a hug. "Thank you _so_ much," he whispered.

"Anytime, Sweet Tooth," Tooth said, running a comforting hand through his hair. "Anytime." She held out the winter spirit at arm-length and smiled. "Next time you stop by my place, I'll give you your sister's memories. And yours, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Jack repeated, a huge grin on his face.

He could finally get a glimpse into his sister's life. He would _remember_ some more of who he used to be.

"Emma's your li'l sistah?" Bunny asked, looking thoughtful. "You mentioned 'er once ta me before . . ."

Jack nodded. "Yeah. Emma Overland."

North's head jerked up at that. "_Overland_, you say? I am . . . familiar with that girl and her brother."

"Yup, that's me!" Jack said cheerily. "Jackson Isaac Overland. Or at least . . . that's who I was."

"No matter," North declared. "You are still Jack, no? And you are one of us."

"North's right," Tooth added. "And by the way, Jack, you can't go back to your cave next year. You have to stay with one of us."

Jack blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Part of the price of being told about where ya were," Bunny muttered. "And something about how the other seasonals aren't able ta protect ya anymore."

Jack's eyes widened. "Oh, of course . . ." he said in realization. "Their powers can't conceal both the power of a Lieutenant of Mother Nature and a Moon-Chosen. They'd cancel each other out with that amount of energy."

Tooth tilted her head. "I thought Flora said that was part of the price," she said hesitantly, looking confused.

Jack snorted as he scooped his staff from the floor. "She just said that to make sound more believable. There aren't prices with things like these. It's just supposed to be a well-kept secret."

"Well, it is nice to see you out and about again, Jack," North boomed jovially. "Stay safe wherever you are."

Jack gave a small laugh, amused. "I will."

When Jack was gone, Bunny sagged down in his seat and sighed.

"So who's gonna take in the kid first next year?"

* * *

In Burgess, Jack rapped on his first believer's window, sweating slightly under the heat of summer. "Hey, Jamie? I gotta be quick, but do you mind holding on to this for me?" he asked, holding out Bunny's painting. "I don't exactly have anywhere to keep it yet."

Jamie nodded, taking the piece of paper. "No problem. I'll put it in a frame for you so it won't get ruined. And, um, see you in the fall?" he added hopefully.

Jack smiled, affectionately placing a hand on Jamie's brown hair. "Definitely."

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Regality: **I'm not the best person at explaining things (oh, heaven knows how bad I am at _defining _words! xD), so I'm glad it made sense!

**Guest: **Haha, I love getting replies from authors, too. It makes the authors seem more . . . _real, _you know? It lets me get to know them, and—I dunno, it makes me feel happy. And as for your questions about the other seasonals, I hope I'll be able to answer them for you in an upcoming chapter! :)

**TheGhostSeeker: **Hmm, I do suppose that you're right about that. I'll admit that I hadn't exactly done any research on that topic, and so _mea __culpa. _I just formed that chapter on the definition alone, so I apologize. Your link did provide some interesting information, though!

**Guest (the second one): **Thank you! I'm now a half-year older. How you guessed that March 15 is my half-birthday (which was also the answer to the challenge that I put up in the previous chapters) is beyond me. But now that I think about it, did I mention that in a previous chapter? Huh. I can't really remember. ^^;

And thank you _so _much to everyone who followed and/or favorited! Your support honestly means the _world _to me. :')


	13. Protect: Part I

**A/N:** Okay, there's been a title change, if you haven't noticed, plus an edited summary. (I change the summary so much . . . my summaries are so dissatisfying.) I think _In Separate Stars _sounds a little better. :)

So based on the word length, I guess that you could tell that **Mysteryfan17**'s request excited me, and um, it accidentally turned into a monster . . . haha. I decided to split it into two parts before this could become something that was 10k or longer. ^^; The next part should be up in a few days.

Have you guys noticed I _adore _Jamie? I guess it's pretty obvious that I do.

And by the way, keep sending me requests! I absolutely _love_ them.

* * *

**Protect: Part I**

* * *

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**Chapter Summary: **A mess in North's Workshop, a setback in Christmas productions, and Pitch and Jack battle it out.

.

"Crap" was the first furtive, whispered word out of his mouth after a few moments of taking in the carnage.

After fully absorbing what the consequences would be, a tense, fearful "Dammit" was the second.

Normally, Jack never swore this many times in a single moment—being around kids most of the time and all—but this was most _definitely_ a good excuse for cussing.

Jack floated above the disaster below him, his hand anxiously fisting his fluffy white hair. This was really, _really_ bad.

North was going to _kill_ him.

Jack shakily flew down and gripped a yeti's thick, furry arm, trying to pull him up. "Hey, you okay? I'm really sorry."

The yeti offered the boy a tired grin, though he winced when he got to his feet. Other yetis were groaning too, an avalanche consisting of _thousands_ of presents covering the whole area.

"I'm really sorry," Jack repeated, looking guiltily around. "I should've seen where I was going."

He should've really learned his lesson, _especially_ after what had just happened earlier today. A few hours ago, Jack went to go visit Bunny, and had the bright idea to fly as fast as he could and tackle his friend as a greeting. But as Jack eagerly flew, an egg golem appeared out of nowhere, making Jack slam into it. As a result of his momentum, he and the heavy statue toppled into the dye river, and in his brief panic from his dazed state—Jack froze the purple river solid.

The stone protector quickly sunk to the bottom, but Jack broke the surface and gasped, the purple dye freezing off of his skin, clothes, and hair. He then crawled over to the edge and flopped over, coughs wracking his body.

Bunny had been angry when he saw the extra work that he had to do, but was a little more gentle when he saw that Jack wasn't in the best condition. That still didn't stop the irritated Guardian from shooing the boy away, though.

So Jack wandered over to the Pole, swooping through the window to say hello to North and possibly offer some help. And then he crashed into the towering stack of presents in the middle of the room, yelping in pain as he was crushed under boxes.

. . . Which led to the swear words coming out of Jack's mouth as he poked his head out of the sea of brightly colored gifts and flew up, seeing everything all broken and dented.

"_VHAT IS GOING ON HERE_?!"

Jack flinched out of his daydream and reflexively shrunk into the safety of the yeti's arm, not realizing that he had done so until he felt fur tickling the side of his face and ear. It was honestly just a thing that he had been doing for decades—_centuries_, maybe?—just to make himself smaller and less of a threat.

Huh. And he thought that he'd grown out of that habit already. But the yeti still pulled him close.

North stormed through the wreckage, his face red and his normally immaculate white beard disheveled. Upon seeing the cringing boy, he wasted no time in stalking over.

"_Jack Frost. Vhat. Happened."_

Jack peeked out from behind the furry arm and gave a nervous chuckle. "Haha, um, actually, funny story now that you ask . . ."

His words died upon seeing the pure anger on North's face. "Jack, it is _one week_ before Christmas, and toys are _nowhere_ near ready. Because of your carelessness, belief could be lost by thousands, maybe _millions_ of children!"

Jack's eyes widened as the damage that he had caused finally sunk in. This was just like the Easter Fiasco . . . except that it actually was _his_ fault this time. "Oh, no," Jack mumbled, his hands falling to his sides. "North," he said, looking up, "I'm _sorry_. I didn't mean for this to happen!"

And with a jolt, Jack realized that was _exactly_ what he had told them before. Empty, empty apologies.

"Jack . . . you need to go."

"W-what?"

"_Leave_, Jack," North said, his temper beginning to rise again.

"North," he pleaded, "I can help—"

"_LEAVE_!" the Guardian roared, making Jack flinch back in terror and stare at his bare feet. How many times had the winter spirit heard that word? "I cannot work with you constantly _destroying_ everything!" North continued.

Jack bit his lip and swallowed, his eyes squeezed shut. He shook the worried yeti's paw off his shoulder, and turned around and leapt up, Wind automatically wrapping around his slim form.

He glanced back for a split second and saw that the yetis were busily cleaning up the mess that he left behind, making another pang of guilt pierce him. The one that Jack helped—_Fred_, he remembered—was looking up remorsefully.

Jack offered him a tiny, weak smile before slipping through the half-open window.

_North_ _didn't mean to get so angry_, Jack thought hopelessly to himself as the coldness of the Pole bit into his skin. The chill didn't bother him, but it was such a difference to the pleasant, familial warmth of the workshop.

_His_ _temper's _always_ short around_ _Christmastime. He'll forgive me. They always do._

So why did Jack feel so doubtful?

...

Time found Jack Frost lying on the side of his pond. Hours had passed, and the winter spirit showed no signs of moving anytime soon. He sighed regretfully and watched the sun sink lower into the horizon, inky streaks of darkness beginning to paint the once-bright blue sky. Icy eyes stared up at the slightly cloudy night, dotted with silver stars. There was no moon tonight.

Jack turned on his side and closed his eyes, but not before seeing a glint of gold. He immediately opened his eyes again.

Wait . . .

Jack sat up instantly and grabbed his staff from its spot beside him.

_No moon._

"Back again, _Jack?"_

Jack turned and stood quickly, his eyes sweeping the surroundings. Two pinpricks of gold stared at him from the shadowy foliage surrounding the frozen pond. There was only one person who would say his name that lightly, but with a barely hidden tone of disgust.

"I guess I should say the same thing about _you_, Pitch," Jack said loudly, pointing his staff at the Nightmare King. "Haven't the Guardians defeated you a million times before? You know I'm not afraid of you."

"Of me?" Pitch mused, slinking out of the darkness. "Yes. Indeed you aren't. But you still _are_ afraid of something. I felt your fear and uncertainty from a _thousand_ miles away. It was most . . ." Pitch sighed blissfully. "Refreshing. It reminded me of how wonderful it tasted."

"Still as gross as ever," Jack remarked off-handedly.

"Just doing my job, Frost," he said lightly. "Tell me . . . how _are_ your dear Guardians?"

"Ready to kick your ass," Jack sniped, frost crackling along his staff.

"_Language_, Jack," Pitch tutted, almost like how a father would scold his child. "You wouldn't want little Jamie Bennett to hear such words, would you?"

Jack's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Leave Jamie out of this," he growled, gripping his staff firmly. "Why are you here, Pitch?" he demanded, changing the subject from his best friend.

"A little Nightmare told me that Jack Frost was feeling abandoned, so I came to pay the poor boy a visit."

"P-pretty stupid excuse," Jack shot back, keeping his guard up as Pitch came closer. But even still, he took an involuntary step backwards. It was getting harder to see with the lack of light, the only source coming from the glow of his staff. And . . . and _there was no moon tonight._

The Man in the Moon wasn't here to see what was happening. No one was.

"Maybe," Pitch pondered. "But why would that bearded fool be angry at his favorite child? Why would he kick you out so close to Christmas?"

Jack hesitated. "I . . . I made a few mistakes. That's all."

"You're afraid that he hates you, aren't you?" Pitch asked softly, sounding almost sympathetic. "Such a shame, that they throw you away so easily. After all, it's just so _tempting_ to place the blame on someone else. North shouldn't have been so careless with that stack of presents, right?

"And what about the other Guardians?" the Nightmare King continued. "The Sandman and the fairy haven't come to see you in _ages_, and the Easter Bunny is currently trying to fish out a heavy statue from the river thanks to you. See, Jack? You're such a burden—they don't _want_ you."

The spirit's words were so smooth that Jack found himself almost falling for it. But then he remembered that it was _Pitch_ talking.

You—you're _wrong_," Jack seethed. "The Guardians care about me. They do!"

"Hah!" Pitch jeered. "A broken boy like you—who would _ever_ love you? You're a _freak!_ Even your seasonal siblings think you're a little strange. The Guardians only care about you because you're a part of their team. You—don't—_matter_," he hissed.

The hurt and confusion inside Jack seemed to reach a breaking point as it bubbled into rage. "SHUT _UP!"_ he roared, blindly swiping his staff and blasting the Nightmare King with a shockwave of ice. "They'll forgive me. They _always_ do!"

Pitch simply raised his hand and deflected the blast with a stream of nightmare sand. "_Weak_," he said dismissively.

Jack growled angrily and raised his staff to attack again, but Pitch was suddenly right next to him, and he grabbed it, pulling it out of Jack's grip.

The winter spirit's eyes widened upon feeling the slight stinging sensation on his right palm, and the old, wooden staff back in Pitch's hands.

"No . . ." Jack whispered, clenching his fists. "_Dammit_," he cursed, furious with himself for letting the other spirit get so close. He lunged forward with his hand outstretched to take back his staff, but tendrils of rough black sand lashed around Jack's wrists, stomach, and ankles, forcing him to his knees.

Jack struggled in the hold of the black ropes. "Let me go!"

But Pitch simply smiled. "You know," he said offhandedly, "Sandy honestly needs to stop coming up with new tricks. It's just much too _easy_ to make them mine."

Jack glared hatefully. "The Guardians _will_ come. And they'll make you _pay_."

"They _won't_," Pitch corrected. "And you're powerless when I have _this_ in my possession."

Jack stared wide-eyed at the Boogeyman idly toying with the piece of wood. _I'm stuck here,_ he realized, the restraints keeping him on the ground still holding strong. _I'm _helpless_, and there's no one who can help me. Baby Tooth's not here this time. I'm alone . . . and I'm . . . I'm _scared_._

And from the triumphant look on Pitch's face, it was obvious that he knew it too.

"Having fun, Jack?" Pitch asked, malice glittering in his golden eyes. He held the staff tantalizingly close to the winter spirit's bound wrists. Jack's fingers twitched, subconsciously reaching—

But Pitch pulled it away.

"I _hate_ you," Jack said lowly, anger making him tremble. "You've made your point. Just let me go."

"But what enjoyment would I get out of that?" Pitch countered. "_You_ of all people should know. And I wonder . . . how much more fear would I get if I were to break this?" were his next words.

Jack stiffened. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I think I will," he replied, tracing the wood. "Such power you have, Jack. I would _kill_ to have even a fraction of it."

Pitch then suddenly gripped the staff, anger twisting his face. "I blame the Man in the Moon and my _foolish_ daughter for the amount of power you have. If it weren't for you, _Frost_, there would be _nothing_ in my way to make everything dark . . . and cold."

Jack's fury slowly morphed into dread, the comment about Pitch having a daughter completely slipping over his head.

_"Because what goes better together than _cold_ and _dark_?"_

Jack shuddered as the memory washed over him. And he remembered the resonating snap of his staff and the excruciating pain all too well. _Just do it_, he then found himself thinking suddenly. _Break it_. And like a dam, the wall around his terrified thoughts broke, making them stream around his mind. _Just break it break it just __**break it**__—_

Jack's breaths became shaky at the fear of the unknown. He didn't know what was worse: the feeling of the agony that was sure to come, or the apprehension.

As he watched, Pitch examined the staff and traced the gnarled surface, occasionally sending the boy dark smirks. He enjoyed this, Jack _knew_ he did, he _enjoyed_ causing fear and being a monster hurting a boy who wanted to go _home_ and not be _scared_ at the hands of a man who wouldn't hesitate to hurt him—

"North," Jack then gasped out, tears running down his face. As they froze, they made a _plink_ when they hit the ground, but he ignored them. "North . . . help me," he whispered. "I'm scared." The names of the other Guardians were also mumbled quickly under his breath, but it was North he really needed most, with his booming voice and gentle smile and fierce protectiveness, which was truthfully quite ironic. Jack might not even be _in_ this situation if it wasn't for him. But Jack still felt awful for being . . . being a burden to the man he looked up to so much. Was Pitch right? Did they really only see Jack as a chore?

"Oh, Jack, I've told you this before, you worthless boy," Pitch sighed. "They're not coming for someone as _useless_ as you. You don't mean anything to them, remember?"

And then he snapped the wood in half as easily as he did the first time. But this time, Pitch did it again. And again.

The pain that followed the first snap was awful, and it only became fresher with the ones that followed. Jack _screamed_ at the agony that seemed to him apart. He could feel his soul his center his _core_ being torn into shreds, and he wanted to _die_.

So when black threatened to cover his line of vision, he gladly accepted it—_embraced_ it, even. And the boy who was as fragile and gentle as frost slumped, his thin limbs hanging limply from the black sand holding him up.

Pitch waved a hand and dissolved the restraints, and Jack's unconscious body fell to the ground with barely a thump—the boy was so light. Pitch examined the shallow rise and fall of Jack's chest, and satisfied, he swept away into the shadows, carelessly flinging back the pieces of the broken staff in Jack's general direction.

Back in his lair, Pitch absentmindedly thumbed one of the shards of wood that made up Jack's staff. He smiled sinisterly, then tossed it over his shoulder. It was of no use now.

"Didn't I say that the Guardians wouldn't come?" he spoke into the silence. "You should've listened to me, Jack. It would've saved you so much pain."

* * *

In the Warren, Bunny was having _quite_ a spectacular problem. The egg golem that Jack had knocked into the dye river was currently stuck at the bottom (it was deceptively deep), and the Guardian was literally about to explode with impatience. It couldn't get up on its own, so he was forced to fish it out himself.

Bunny tossed the weighted—now pastel purple—rope back into the river and shook it around, trying once again to slide the loop around the stone statue. He adjusted his position, then ran up a nearby tree with the twine held carefully in his teeth. Bunny slid back down, swinging. The Pooka now had a decent pulley system.

And with a grunt, Bunny gripped the rope tightly and pulled as hard as he could, putting all of his weight on it. "C'mon big guy," he coaxed, his muscles straining, "ya got this. Nice an' easy."

With a few more pulls, Bunny's attempts were finally rewarded. The wiggling statue broke the surface of the river and was immediately dropped on dry land once Bunny deemed that it was completely out.

Once he helped the golem right itself, Bunny let out an exhausted sigh. It had taken him most of the day, but it was finally out after countless attempts. The dye probably wouldn't wash off for a while, making the Guardian internally groan at the amount of work it would take to remove it.

"All right, ya rascal," Bunny said, pointing a finger, "don't go fallin' inta any more rivers, okay? Took me _ages_ ta get you out. So, um, yeah," he ended awkwardly.

Pretending that he never asked a somewhat inanimate object anything, the Pooka turned away and bounded up the grassy hill, leaving the statue behind. As he gazed at the tunnels leading out of his Warren, he wondered where Jack had gone off to. He _did_ leave pretty quickly after crashing into that statue . . . it looked like it hurt, to be honest.

Maybe he was at North's? If there was anyone who could calm down the old guy around Christmas, it was Jack. North loved the kid like a son—it was glaringly obvious to the other Guardians.

And Easter preparations didn't really start until _after_ Christmas . . . Bunny was the most relaxed he'd been in a while, except for the whole throwing-rope-into-a-purple-river-to-save-a-statue thing.

_North's place it is, then,_ the Guardian decided.

Bunny tapped his foot on the ground, and he was gone.

But when his tunnel opened up outside in the snow—_again_—the Pooka was prepared to give the other Guardian a piece of his mind. But as soon as he walked through the front doors, his irritation immediately died.

The Pole looked like a _disaster_ zone. Broken toys were scattered everywhere, the elves seemed to be hopped up on more sugar than usual, yetis were limping across the room . . . it looked absolutely terrible.

And then he saw North, looking sufficiently frustrated, a look that didn't normally appear on the gentle Guardian's face.

Bunny cautiously made his way to North's side, putting a hesitant paw on his shoulder.

"Mate, what happened here? Was it Pitch?"

North shook his head. "_Nyet_. Was Jack," he said heavily.

Bunny blinked. "Wait, are you telling me that _Jack_ did all this?"

"Yes."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know," North burst out, looking more frazzled than ever. "I do not have _time_ to worry about Jack right now. Yetis need to rebuild thousands of toys, and there is only _one week_ until Christmas."

"Hey, um, it'll be fine, North," Bunny said awkwardly, trying to console his friend. He wasn't very good at things like this. "I'll call the others, and we'll help ya clean, all right? And I can paint with the yetis."

"Thank you, Bunny," North said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will be in office if you need me."

Bunny nodded, turning away to run toward the globe room. The Globe of Belief was still as brightly lit as ever, though a particularly large one around Burgess dimmed somewhat as he twisted the lever—

He stumbled backward, feeling a shockwave go through his body as the iridescent lights glowed and spiraled upwards.

_What . . . what _was_ that?_

Bunny was still staring at that weakly fluctuating golden light when Sandy and Tooth came flying in 30 minutes later.

"Bunny, what's wrong?" Tooth called, her wings fluttering gently as she slowed to a stop next to him. "Where's North?"

"Trying to clean up a _huge_ mess," he replied distractedly, still concerned about that Light in Burgess. "Jack accidentally destroyed a bunch of toys, and North's _not_ very happy right now."

"Oh, no . . ." she said, biting her lip. "Is there anything we can do? And where _is_ Jack?"

"I'm not sure," Bunny admitted, turning to the fairy. "But I'm also really worried about that Light in Burgess. What if the kids are in danger?"

Bunny knew that Sandy and Tooth understood what he meant when he said "the kids." Jamie and his friends held special places in each of their hearts for helping defeat Pitch.

In response, Sandy formed a haphazard squiggly line.

"Yeah, I felt it too," Tooth added. "Usually Lights going out don't have that much of an effect."

"But it _didn't_ go out," Bunny pointed out. "It's still there, but it's pretty faint. Do ya think that we need ta check it out?"

"I-I would think so," Tooth said. "Sandy?"

He nodded, but held up the image of a candy cane. _Should we tell North?_

Bunny paused. North was already stressed enough . . . there was no need to trouble him with anything else. "No," he then said decisively. "He's already got enough on his plate. And we'll be back before North even knows we left."

"Okay," Tooth agreed.

"My tunnels'll be quicker," Bunny then said, secretly glad that North wasn't there to force them all into the sleigh. "And we'll be able to see if Frostbite's there, too."

He tapped his foot, and the three Guardians dove underground. They moved quickly, miles going by with each passing second. Light soon broke the dimness of the tunnel, and they hopped out . . . into snow. _Again._

"It's freezin'!" Bunny blurted out as soon as he felt the chill sink into his fur. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight reflecting off of the ice crystals.

"It's _winter_, Bunny," Tooth reminded him, though she seemed as bothered as he was by the cold.

Sandy was happily oblivious to the elements . . . perks of being made out of sand.

Bunny glanced around at the place, the gently falling snowflakes throwing him off a little. "This is Jack's lake."

He then took a step forward, pausing when he felt something hard under his foot. He crouched down and dug through the snow, pulling out a stick. He cleared the surrounding area, finding more and more of the twigs, but Bunny's heart dropped to his stomach when he held up a familiar curved piece.

He lined up the broken pieces together, his dread growing stronger.

"Jack's staff . . ." Tooth whispered, horrified.

Bunny narrowed his eyes and began digging more fiercely, trying to see if Jack was buried here as well. Then his nails caught on a worn, blue piece of fabric. Bunny gripped the hoodie and pulled the unconscious Guardian of Fun out of the snowbank.

"Jack!" Tooth cried out.

Sandy had a look of anger on his face upon seeing the black grains of sand falling into the white snow.

_Pitch, you're in for a _world_ of pain when I get my hands on you,_ Bunny swore, seeing the black sand too.

The three Guardians then crouched around Jack's limp body, their worry growing when they saw that he wasn't moving.

"What's wrong with him?" Tooth asked.

Bunny shook his head. "I don't know."

Sandy prodded them, then pointed to the broken pieces of Jack's staff.

"You're right, Sandy. Kid's bound to have _some_ sort of connection with that thing," Bunny agreed. "He never lets it leave his sight."

"But how do we fix it?" Tooth asked, looking up at him with suspiciously shiny violet eyes.

"Let's just find all the pieces first," Bunny said. "And _then_ we'll focus on fixing the stick."

They dug around in the snow, occasionally glancing back at their youngest member. After a few minutes, they were able to find what they thought was the rest of Jack's broken staff.

"S-seven pieces," Tooth reported. "Do you think that's all of them?"

Bunny analyzed the staff, putting the pieces together. Then he shook his head, pointing at one awkwardly fitting part. "No, we're missing one."

Tooth's face fell, but then her eyes shone with some kind of determination. "We won't be able to find it in this kind of weather. I say that we should bring Jack back to the Pole—or somewhere else where he's safe," she amended after Bunny's piercing look.

Jack wasn't currently a welcome visitor at the Pole.

"Oh, I know!" Tooth said. "Why don't we ask Jamie to take care of Jack?"

Sandy had a doubtful expression, mirroring the one on Bunny's face.

"And we could do a little secret reconnaissance to find that Light," Tooth hinted.

"All right, then," Bunny conceded. "Jack's probably safer with Jamie anyway. That's probably the _last_ place Pitch would look."

* * *

Jamie and his friends ran out the doors of the school, each of them having wide grins on their faces. They had waited so _long_ for winter break, and now it was finally here!

"Hey, I'll see you guys in a few hours, okay?" Jamie said, waving goodbye as he ran down the sidewalk to his house.

"Bye Jamie!"

"See ya, Jamie!"

"This party's gonna _rock!"_

Jamie smiled to himself as he raced home, his hands firmly gripped around the straps of his bag. _This is gonna be_ great.

When he opened his front door, he dropped his bag next to the stairs and ran up to his room. He needed to get the decorations up for the party, and fast!

"Jamie, is that you?"

"Yes, Mom!" he called, going inside his room. "I'll be right . . . down."

Jamie stared blankly at the boy sleeping on his bed. "_Jack?"_ he whispered, quickly shutting his door. Jamie hurried over, spotting a hastily scrawled note written in his journal.

_Jamie—_

_Jack's been really hurt, and it's not safe with us. Can he stay with you until he heals?_

_Thanks, we owe you one!_

_Love,_  
_Tooth, Bunny, and Sandy_

Jamie blinked, rereading the note. He glanced up at Jack, who didn't seem to show any outer signs of injury. But then he saw the broken pieces of the staff lying next to his friend.

"Yeah, I can keep him safe," Jamie promised himself quietly. "After all, I'm a Guardian too." He looked at his sleeping friend. ". . . Right, Jack?"

But Jack didn't answer.

* * *

The mood was somber back at the Pole. Bunny's paint strokes were mechanical, Tooth was absently caring for the injured yetis, and Sandy was busy keeping the elves from distracting North and the yetis who were still capable of work.

"How do you think Jack and Jamie are?" Tooth asked softly.

Bunny set down his paintbrush and sighed heavily. "I'm sure they're fine. I've thought of a few ways ta fix the kid's staff, but I dunno if they'll actually—y'know, _fix_ it."

"That's true," Tooth agreed. "And the yetis are feeling a lot better now, so production should increase tenfold."

Bunny grinned wearily. "Good to hear. We still need to tell North about Jack, though."

"Tell me what?"

The two Guardians jumped when the booming voice of their friend broke their quiet conversing.

"Oh, hi North," Tooth said, offering him a smile. "We were just talking about you."

"Yes. And thank you for helping me so close to Christmas," he said. "Was worried that holiday would be ruined."

"Nope, it's all fine now," Tooth chirped brightly.

"Yeah, I've been helping the yetis repaint some of the chipped toys," Bunny added. "And Sandy's been keeping the elves out of our hair."

"What about Jack? Where is he?" North questioned.

Much to Bunny's surprise (and sorrow), it was just simply asked in curiosity. There was no anger at all, compared to earlier. North seemed genuinely concerned.

"Are ya still mad at him?" Bunny said in response.

North shook his head. "No. It was just accident. Pressure made me black out a little, so I do not remember much about what happened."

Bunny felt Tooth's gaze on him. _Tell him_, her eyes seemed to be urging.

He sighed heavily. ". . . Jack's hurt," the Pooka finally admitted. "We found 'im passed out next to his lake, black sand scattered all around the snow. And his staff's in pieces, and we don't know how to fix it."

"Did I hurt him again?" North said softly, but more to himself this time.

"We left him with Jamie," Tooth said quietly. "Bunny was a little worried that seeing him would make you angry, so that's why we left him there."

"No . . ." North mumbled. "I got angry at him, even after I promised that he was family. I went overboard—I remember now. Jack was very scared."

"Hey, North," Bunny then said hesitantly, "is Jack on the Globe?"

"Should be," he replied promptly. "He is fourteen and is still very much child."

"I think his Light flickered a little," Tooth said. "We all felt it earlier."

North frowned. "I _do_ remember feeling a little bit weaker a few hours ago . . . does most of our belief come from Jack?"

"He's a _child_," Bunny said slowly, "and an immortal one at that. It makes sense that his belief to have such a huge effect on us."

"And he was targeted by _Pitch_," North said, a troubled look on his face.

But before Bunny could respond, a loud crash made all three Guardians glance up. The familiar sound of sand shifting was heard, and Bunny reached for his boomerang.

"Something's up," he warned, his nose twitching.

Then Sandy was blasted into the room by a wave of black sand.

"Sandy!"

Tooth rushed over to help him up, but then Pitch came in, smirking. "So the absence of your power source's belief _does_ weaken you," he said.

Bunny tightened his grip around his weapon. "Jack is _not_ our power source," he growled, the words leaving him before he could think.

"But this makes it _so_ much easier," Pitch said, raising his hands. "Because even a little bit of belief chipped away makes a whole lot of difference."

North only had time to shout, "Get ready!" before the black sand crashed down on them.

_Hope you're doing better than _we_ are, Frostbite, _Bunny thought grimly.


	14. Protect: Part II

**A/N: **All right, here's Part II! I'm feeling a little unsure about this . . . it sounded a lot better when I was writing it. :/ Bleargh.

Enjoy anyway! :)

**Disclaimed.**

* * *

**Protect: Part II**

* * *

.

**Chapter Summary: **Jamie had never forgotten what Jack had told him the first day they met. A little over a year later, it's now time for his words to become true.

.

"Jamie, your friends are here!"

The eleven-year-old jumped at his mother's voice, glancing at his closed door. He'd been so distracted by the sudden appearance of his friend that he hadn't even gone back downstairs to help her with preparations for the party.

_I'll be back soon, okay, Jack? _Jamie thought, guiltily opening his door.

"Coming, Mom!" he called, rushing down the stairs. "I'm really sorry that I didn't help you—something was on my mind . . ."

His mother frowned at him as he skidded to a stop in front of her. "James Bennett, we'll talk about this later. But now, go meet your friends."

Jamie leapt forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "Thanks, Mom. Love you!"

His mother chuckled. It was so hard to stay angry at her son. "Love you too, Jamie."

Jamie was beaming as he ran toward the living room, where his friends were waiting.

"What took you so long?" Pippa teased. "Did Jack come and visit again? It's obvious that _you're _his favorite."

"That's true," Caleb muttered, shooting Jamie a sly smile.

But at that, Jamie's grin slid off of his face. "Guys, about that . . ."

Cupcake immediately caught on. "Jamie, what's wrong? Is it Jack?" she asked, her voice lowering.

". . . Yeah," he admitted. "He's actually in my room now, but—"

"Let's go see him," Claude said, hopping off the couch.

The six children rushed upstairs. When Jamie opened his door, they were greeted with a blast of cold air. He squinted as the wind blew back his bangs, but then he grinned when he saw that Jack was awake.

"Jack!" Jamie said happily, tackling the older boy into a hug.

"H-hey, kiddo," Jack said, giving a weak smile. Jamie smiled, leaning into Jack's lap.

"Us too, us too!" Claude and Caleb chimed in, swarming around the winter spirit. Monty soon followed.

Pippa and Cupcake sent each other sideways glances before rolling their eyes and smiling fondly at the antics of their male friends.

"So, um, anyone wanna tell me why I'm here?" Jack asked, looking confused.

"Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy brought you here," Jamie supplied. "I came home from school, and there you were."

At his words, Jack frowned. Jamie wanted to ask his friend what was bothering him, but didn't, deciding to wait until everyone was gone.

"Jack, what happened to your staff?" Monty asked. "It's in a million pieces!"

Jack laughed, his chin resting on Jamie's head. "Not quite a million, but yeah, it's a lot, isn't it?"

"But what happened?" Monty pressed, bouncing slightly on the bed.

"Pitch just surprised me, that's all," Jack answered, smiling warmly. "I'll be okay." But Jamie felt the Guardian's arms wrap tightly around him, and he knew that there was more to the story than that. "Why are all of you guys here, anyway?" Jack asked, changing the subject.

"It's our Christmas party," Pippa explained. "And it's Jamie's turn to have it this year."

Jack stiffened slightly at the word "Christmas," but attempted to cover it up with a nod. "Gotcha."

Jamie glanced up at him, worried. "Jack, are you able to fix your staff?"

"I've done it before."

The way Jack said it made Jamie a little uneasy. His tone was humorless . . . grim. Was there a bad story behind this? He frowned slightly, then scrambled off of Jack's lap to join his friends in the circle.

Jack reached for the broken pieces and pressed two of them together, his mouth set in a firm line with the effort. Before long, blue sparks of magic burst from the break, exploding and twisting to bind them together. When the light faded, it looked brand-new, save for the fact that there were five more pieces to attach.

But Jack was a different story. He looked _exhausted._ The exertion used to fix that portion of his staff unveiled just how tired the Guardian was. Pitch _definitely _did much more than "surprise" Jack.

"Jack, why don't you stop for a bit," Pippa said, noticing Jack's fatigue as well. "Guardians need to rest, too."

"Thanks, but the sooner I fix this, the better," Jack answered, looking somewhat apologetic.

So on it went four more times, until there were only two more pieces to put together. Jack's smile was beginning to become more genuine, until he attempted to fit the last two with each other.

His eyes narrowed. "There's one missing . . . Pitch must've taken one last night."

"Can we help?" Monty asked.

Jack's eyes widened, probably remembering that he had an audience. He grinned and shook his head ruefully. "Sorry, but this isn't something you can help with, guys. I'll have to call the other Guardians."

Everyone's faces fell, but Jack quickly said, "Aw, cheer up! Once we track down this missing piece, I'll give you a snow day, all right?"

They smiled. "Okay."

Jack smiled back. "Now enjoy your party, okay? You don't want an old guy like me ruining it."

There were immediate protests against this, but Jack simply waved them off. "I'll be here if you need me."

Jamie sat quietly, watching them leave, then turned to Jack. "All right," he said, leaning forward, "what's the real story?"

Jack laughed, a glint in his blue eyes. "I should've known that you'd see through it, squirt," he said.

"C'mon, Jack," Jamie pressed. "I can handle this! I—" His eyes widened when Jack reached out and ruffled his hair.

"I know, Jamie. You're one of the strongest believers I know," Jack said, smiling. "So what do you say to helping me look for the last piece of my staff?"

Jamie grinned. "I'm in."

"We'll leave as soon as your mom gets to bed, okay?" Jack said.

Jamie nodded. "The party will be over in two hours, so until then, you can just hang with us. My mom made a lot of food, and I don't think we'll eat it all."

"Food _does _sound pretty good right now," Jack said wistfully.

"Then let's go. Your staff will be perfectly safe here."

"If you say so."

…

Two hours came and went.

Jamie was a little sad to see his friends go, but he was feeling excited for the mission that he would be going on with Jack.

"Good night, Jamie," his mother said, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "Sweet dreams from the Sandman."

"Love you, Mom," he responded, inwardly smiling. Jamie waited for a few minutes, then clambered out of his bed and hurried over to his closet to pull on some warmer clothes.

As he was slipping on his sneakers, he heard Jack call teasingly from the window, "Hat, Jamie."

Jamie rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Not you too! I hear that enough from my mom."

Jack laughed. "C'mon, kiddo. Let's get going."

Jamie nodded and climbed onto his back. Once he was fully situated, Jack opened the window . . . and stopped.

"Jack? What's wrong?" he whispered.

The winter spirit laughed nervously. "I, um, kinda forgot that I can't fly without my staff."

Jamie frowned. "Oh. Well, what if you jump down first and catch me?"

"Yeah, but Jamie, I am _not _letting you jump off a roof!"

"What about an ice slide, then?" Jamie suggested. "Like what you did with the sled?"

"That would work," Jack agreed, looking considerably embarrassed. He hopped out the window and onto the roof ledge, then shot a large blast of ice to the ground. From Jamie's perspective, it looked like that Jack was struggling, but he chose to ignore that. He patted his jacket pocket for the pouch of dreamsand that Sandy had given him one time, then grabbed the broken staff from where Jack had left it. Thinking quickly, Jamie slipped the two pieces in his backpack and ran to his window.

"Coming down!" Jamie said, closing the panes. He scooted onto the cold ice, then slid down, a laugh escaping his lips. He crashed into Jack's arms, and said, giggling, "_That _was really fun."

Jack ran a hand through his hair and sighed, smiling fondly. "All right, let's get going, then."

The two of them then started running down the street and into the woods surrounding Jack's lake. Jack winced as he took the lead and went deeper into the forest. "I haven't been running in a while," he said, glancing back at Jamie with a sheepish look. "Guess I never realized how much I depended on Wind."

"Out of shape, Jack?" Jamie teased, who was having no trouble at all. He supposed that playing baseball this past year (which incidentally helped with his snowball throwing skills) helped. "Or are you getting old?"

"Jamie, that was low," Jack whined. "I'll have you know that the other Guardians are like, _thousands _of years old. And anyway, we're here."

Jamie slowed to a stop next to Jack, who was staring stonily at a dark hole in the ground. He shivered and unconsciously leaned closer to the older boy. "This place gives me the creeps."

"The lair of Mr. McCreepypants would probably do that," Jack drawled humorlessly. But then he looked down at Jamie and smiled. "I would _never _let anything happen to you, kiddo. Don't worry."

"O-okay," Jamie agreed, feeling safer already.

"I'll go down first," Jack then said. "I'll tell you when to jump." Jamie nodded, but Jack had already hopped in.

Much too late, he heard a faint call of "Jamie! You can come down now!"

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jamie steeled himself, then threw himself into the hole before he could lose his nerve. The feeling of weightlessness made him feel slightly giddy, but before he knew it—he was already nestled in Jack's arms.

"Gotcha," Jack murmured. After letting him go, he gave Jamie a reassuring smile, which Jamie nervously returned.

"Guess I ended up jumping off something, right?" he said cheekily.

Jack rolled his eyes and ruffled Jamie's hair affectionately.

And with a deep breath, the pair then delved deeper into the abyss.

* * *

Bunny growled and dodged yet another whip of black sand. Pitch was a _lot _stronger than he remembered . . . but that didn't matter. He still had a part of Jack's staff and he was still the enemy.

"How's everyone holdin' up?" Bunny roared as he tumbled neatly to the side.

"Peachy," Tooth managed to gasp out from above as she held her scimitars (where did she get _those?_) in an X-shape to defend herself from the onslaught.

Glancing over, Bunny glimpsed Sandy purifying as many Nightmares as he possibly could, but Pitch just kept sending them after him.

But then suddenly North was next to Bunny, shouting, "We need to retreat! There are too many of them."

"For once I agree with ya, mate," Bunny replied, frowing. "We've gotta get back to Jack. I'll make a tunnel as soon as ya get the others over here."

But before North could go and alert them, the black sand was suddenly pulled back, and Pitch melted back into the shadows. His voice echoed around them:

_"Your dear winter spirit is up to a lot of trouble right now . . . I'll be back soon, _Guardians."

Bunny swore angrily, then turned to his teammates. "Now we've _really _gotta get to Jack. _Right now._"

Sandy and Tooth gingerly picked themselves off of the floor and made their way over, determined expressions on their faces. Jack needed them all more than ever.

"I say . . . Burgess!" North then shouted, as he pulled out a snowglobe from his pocket. He smashed it onto the ground, and the four of them dove in.

And like last time, the portal opened up next to Jack's lake. Bunny (after swaying slightly from the vertigo resulting from portal travel) began searching for the kid's scent, then grabbed his boomerang when the familiar smell of snow, pine, and mint reached him . . . along with a less familiar one consisting of sunlight. "He went that way," Bunny told the others, gesturing, "and he's got Jamie Bennett with him."

"Of course Jack would take Jamie with him," Tooth sighed. "We better hurry, then."

The trail led the four Guardians to the hole in the ground, and without hesitation, they jumped in.

". . . thought you'd be _terrified _to see me again, Jack."

"Like I said before, I'm _not _scared of you!"

"Such bravado. But I still remember your screams and your tears after being abandoned by North . . ."

Bunny felt North stiffen beside him.

"Ignore him, Jack. We're here to get your staff back, not talk to a jerk like him!"

The Guardians peered cautiously around the corner, and saw three figures—a small boy in jeans, a thick green coat, and a bag with two sticks poking out; a taller boy with white hair dressed in a frosted blue hoodie and worn brown pants; and an even taller figure made of shadows.

Jamie, Jack, and Pitch.

"I thought that you were smarter than that, Jack," Pitch said disapprovingly. "Bringing not only yourself, but _Jamie _here? How stupid of you."

"Pitch, give me my staff back!" Jack shouted, brushing Jamie behind him with a sweep of his arm. "I'm not leaving until I get it."

"Let's go!" Bunny whispered urgently.

It was time to get their youngest member back.

* * *

As soon as the words left Bunny's mouth, Tooth immediately flew ahead and grabbed Jamie's arm, who looked shocked to see her. "Tooth?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you," she said, smiling warmly. The other Guardians swiftly grouped around them, cutting them off from Pitch. Glancing worriedly at the others, Tooth pulled Jamie away from the fight beginning to start. "It's obvious that Pitch doesn't have the last piece of the staff with him," she quickly whispered to him. "He would've shown it off by now, so that means it's up to us to find it."

"B-but—"

"Jamie, there's no time! Jack's belief is already wavering, and . . . and he's important to us. We _can't lose him._"

Jamie nodded, something in his brown eyes changing. "I understand."

Tooth glanced back up, then grasped the little boy's hand. She smiled. "Ready to be a Guardian?"

* * *

Jack had a momentary panic attack when he felt that Jamie was no longer behind him, but relaxed marginally when he glimpsed Tooth's rainbow-colored physique pulling Jamie along. She would keep him safe.

"Where is Jack's staff, Pitch?" North said, a dangerous note in his voice.

Jack winced slightly upon hearing that tone again. He had forgotten a little about North's anger at him with all the worry about not having his staff whole.

Pitch, seemingly noticing the flinch, smirked. "Still scared, Jack?"

"S-shut up!"

Why did Jack always feel so small when facing Pitch? He absolutely hated it.

"Get out of here, Frostbite," Bunny murmured, placing a paw on Jack's shoulder. "It's too dangerous for you without your staff."

Jack shook off the paw angrily. He was tired of feeling useless. He was tired of being the one getting protected. He was a Guardian, too.

"No," he said forcefully, looking at Bunny with blazing blue eyes. "I can still fight without my staff."

Bunny's gaze hardened. "Frostbite, stop being so ridiculous—"

As they argued, both Guardians failed to notice the tendril of black beginning to snake its way around Jack's leg. Sandy's gentle eyes widened when he saw it, but by then he was too late—Jack was yanked mercilessly to the ground and dragged to Pitch.

"Let go of me!" Jack snarled, his fingers just out of reach of the rope. Weak bursts of frost shot from his fingertips, but they didn't have much effect without a conduit to channel through.

The three Guardians leapt forward to save Jack, but Pitch moved quicker, holding the blade of his scythe next to Jack's neck. Almost instantly, the boy's breathing became shallower from panic.

"Seasonal spirits are just so fragile," Pitch mused, pressing the blade in deeper. Jack winced and tried to move away, but Pitch's hold on him was too strong. "A good stab could kill them off."

"Don't you _dare _hurt him!" North shouted, shaking his sword in warning.

Sandy's dreamsand whips floated anxiously around him, reflecting the tense emotions of their wielder.

The situation was dire—and _everyone _knew it. How could they get Jack without him being killed?

But then Pitch was frozen solid.

Jack's eyes widened when the frost trailed up the black sand, familiar-but-not-familiar patterns encasing Pitch in ice. Jack shook his head to snap himself out of his confused stupor, and broke free of the sand trapping him. He stumbled away, still shaken from such a near-death experience.

"Jack, did _you _do that?" Bunny asked, looking stunned as he caught Jack before he could trip, a rarity for the graceful winter spirit.

"N-no . . ." he replied, just as confused as Bunny was.

"Hi guys!" chirped Jamie, popping up from behind the frozen Pitch with a cheeky grin. And grasped in his hand was Jack's fixed staff.

"Jamie!" Jack said in shock. "What—how—"

Tooth then fluttered up behind Jamie, looking somewhat worn out, but triumphant nonetheless. Joining the group, Tooth hugged both Jamie and Jack. "We should get out of here while we still can. And I think it's a little past this one's bedtime," she added, ruffling Jamie's hair fondly.

Jack gratefully accepted the offered staff from Jamie, still in shock about how he was able to repair it. "How?" he simply asked.

Jamie giggled. "Tooth thought that because I was your first believer, I would have some sort of connection to you and have some link to your powers. So that's how I was able to fix your staff, _and _freeze Pitch solid."

Jack laughed. "That _was _pretty great. But I think that you were only able to harness some of my magic because of the amount of belief that you have. It's actually really incredible, Jamie."

He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "Thanks, Jack."

"How _did _you manage to find the last piece anyway?"

"Oh, um, it was kinda glowing. I think it was reacting to the other pieces of your staff."

The six of them then somehow ended back up in front of Jamie's house. "_This _time I'll be able to fly you up there," Jack said, lifting Jamie up by the arms. He opened the window, and the two climbed in.

"Night, Jack," Jamie said sleepily as he snuggled under his blanket, not even bothering to change back into his pajamas. "Merry Christmas."

"But that's next week," Jack laughed, turning back from his drawing.

"I dunno if you'll be here, though," Jamie said, his brown eyes droopy.

"Don't you worry, kiddo," he replied, pulling loose the bunny from the window and placing it gently on the nightstand. "I'll be here."

But Jamie was already fast asleep by the time Jack finished his sentence. The bunny twitched its nose and looked at Jack inquisitively, but the winter spirit held a finger to his lips and gestured to Jamie.

"Keep him company, all right?"

It nodded, and Jack flew out the window, landing lightly next to the Guardians. "He's asleep now," he said, jerking a thumb at the slightly frosted window.

"That's good," Tooth said with a relieved sigh. "And Jack—I'm so glad you're okay."

"Me too," he agreed fervently. "I am _never _letting my staff out of my sight again. And . . . Pitch, ugh." He shuddered involuntarily. He wouldn't be getting rid of the mind-twisty things that Pitch said anytime soon.

"And stop being such a stubborn drongo," Bunny said. "You nearly got _killed_ out there!"

Jack felt ashamed. His pride had gotten ahead of him. "And I'm sorry about that. For worrying you guys, I mean."

"Jack, you are . . . okay, right?" North then asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. I—I'm fine." A beat. "Well, now I am."

"That's good."

Blue eyes met blue, then quickly averted. Cue awkward silence.

"Oh, will ya just hug and make up?" Bunny interjected, seemingly fed up with their actions. "Jack, North's sorry. North, Jack's sorry. The end."

Sandy beamed in agreement, pushing Jack closer to North.

Jack smiled at Sandy, then slowly wrapped his arms around the other Guardian's larger frame, eventually relaxing into his hug.

Their family was a little dysfunctional, yes, but still quite perfect. Arguments would happen frequently, misunderstandings would arise, but all that really mattered was that they still cared for each other in the end.

And Jack wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Back at the Pole, a light flared brightly on the Globe of Belief, twinkling merrily.

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Guest: **Thank you so much! And here's the next part, as promised. :) Hope you enjoyed it!


	15. A Familiar Melody

**A/N: **Because I was writing down some story ideas for this in my journal one day in between all of the requests, and an image of Jack singing to the tooth fairies popped into my head. xD And I've decided to add little summaries before the chapters―thought that they would be good ideas. :)

(**lilfoxkit**, does this count as "motherly affection from Tooth"? xP)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own RotG, "Still Dream," or _Aesop's Fables. _

* * *

**A Familiar Melody**

* * *

**.**

**Chapter Summary: **Turns out the Man in the Moon didn't take _every _memory from Jack.

.

The candlelight flickered, forming dark shadows on the walls. A storm raged violently outside, lightning flashing every few minutes. The _pitter-patter _of raindrops, the roaring wind, and the occasional rustling of pages were the only things heard in the small house. The wooden floor creaked slightly as Jack tried to find a more comfortable reading position by rolling over on his stomach.

So he read on, eventually deciding to situate himself on his side. Jack had found this particular book thrown in a particularly muddy patch near the pond earlier this week, and so he took it, only feeling the _tiniest _bit guilty. It wasn't like anyone was looking for the book (no one claimed it when he asked), and besides, the stories intrigued him. Such as the one he was reading now . . .

_"A Doe had had the misfortune to lose one of her eyes,"_ he read silently,_ "and could not see any one approaching her on that side. So to avoid any danger she always used to feed on a high cliff near the sea, with her sound eye_—"

"Jack . . . ?"

The words were said a little hesitantly, making Jack glance up from his book in concern. She was supposed to be sleeping.

"What's wrong?"

"The thunder woke me up, and it's scary outside . . ." the little girl whispered from her position on her bed, hands clamped firmly around her ears. Chocolate-brown eyes shone fearfully from under the blanket. "C-can you sing for me? Please?"

Jack instantly set the book aside, marking his page. "Anything for you, little lady," he said, looking fondly at his little sister as he made his way over to sit next to her. "You got something in mind?"

Emma opened her mouth to respond, but then a loud _boom _rattled the little wooden house, making her squeak and dive into a startled Jack's arms, blanket and all.

Jack glanced up and frowned, holding her close as she trembled. The thunderstorms had been particularly bad this year . . . Emma had been requesting songs more than usual. Few things scared the adventurous little girl—thanks to an equally adventurous older brother—but thunder? That was something terrifying to her.

"Shh, it's all right," he soothed, rubbing her back. "We'll sing together until Mama comes back home from the market, okay? I _promise_ that thunder's nothing to be afraid of. It's just a noise, Em," he said, repeating the words that he said every time a storm came.

"O-okay," Emma whispered, her brown eyes watery. "But can you still sing me that song? The one that Papa used to sing to us every night?"

Jack hesitated with his answer. The lyrics and melody were still fresh in his mind, but he hadn't sung it aloud in _years_. It was one of Jack's last recollections of his father before . . . before he died. Emma was really young then, only three years old, so she didn't really remember him, save for a few tiny memories. But he sighed and hugged her close, burrowing his nose in her soft hair. If there was anything that Jack learned from the passing of his father three years previous, it was to appreciate the little things and make as many memories as he could . . . like singing with his little sister.

"All right," he relented, pulling the blanket off of her head and gently wiping away her tears with his sleeve. "But no more crying, okay? You'll be able to sing a lot better that way."

Emma sniffled, burrowing her face into Jack's chest. Her arms wrapped tighter around his middle.

Jack's face softened. "Aw, Em, it's okay," he said tenderly. "I'm here, the storm's outside, and it won't be able to get you." Then he spoke the words that would always get her to calm down:

"You've gotta believe in me."

And ever so slowly, the sound of her tears began to fade.

Closing his eyes, and a smile adorning his face, Jack rocked the six-year-old back and forth and began to sing softly. And soon, Emma's sweet, gentle voice joined in.

Together, they drowned out the storm.

"_Time to close your eyes  
Overlook the darkness  
And try to dream tonight."_

* * *

"_Not so long ago  
Your world was bright . . ."_

Tooth perked up at the voice resonating through her palace. She paused in her orders to her fairies, glancing in the direction she heard it coming from. It was probably just a silly children's song, but the rich-sounding voice made it sound so . . . so _beautiful. _Listening for a few more verses, Tooth ran her hands through the feathers on her head, then turned to the curious fairies awaiting orders. "Um, wait here for a minute, okay, ladies?" she asked, pointing a finger at them with a small smile.

They chirped an agreement, making Tooth's smile grow.

The lullaby continued as she flitted over to the source, her violet eyes sweeping the area. The voice became louder as she got closer, and she dived over the waterfall that led to the mural. Tooth peeked from behind a tree and gasped, stifling a giggle when she saw that the singer was _Jack _of all people. He was sitting, cross-legged, by the pond. Unaware of the new member of his audience, Jack sang on to a small group of her girls, who were probably as captivated by his voice as she was.

Tooth then flew down next to Jack with a broad smile on her face, who looked over at her with wide blue eyes before grinning back sheepishly. The lyrics were still flowing, albeit a little more awkwardly now that he realized that she was here.

"_Time to close your eyes  
But when you awake . . .  
Still dream."_

When he finished singing, Jack blushed slightly. "H-hi, Tooth."

"Jack, I didn't know that you could sing so well!" she squealed immediately after. "Where'd you hear this song from? It's beautiful!" The other fairies eventually left as the two Guardians talked, except for Baby Tooth, who was perched lazily on Jack's head, playing with the white strands of his hair.

"I'm not really sure," Jack admitted, shrugging. "The lyrics just pop into my head from time to time, but uh, I like them." A strange look appeared then on his face. "It's—it's really _weird_, actually, but they feel _really _familiar. I've been trying to figure out why, but I can't." He laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "I, uh . . . my singing's really bad, so sorry about that."

"It's not weird at all, Jack," Tooth said, an interesting idea forming in her mind. Jack still didn't have all of his memories yet, right? "It's a lovely song, and you sang it wonderfully! I'm glad I was able to hear it."

"J-just don't tell Bunny, okay?" Jack pleaded. "He'll _never _get over the fact that I was singing to the tooth fairies."

Tooth laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it," she said, winking.

"Thanks," he said, looking relieved as he reached over to grab his staff. "I just wanted to stop by for a bit and say hi 'cause I was in the area, but I guess I got a little carried away . . . Oh, and um, Baby Tooth and I were gonna go and spread some snow around Mt. Everest, if that's okay with you. Mother Nature told me that she needed a light dusting over the tops . . ."

Tooth wasn't really able to follow the logistics of the job that Jack was given as he spoke with that bright, excited look in his eyes whenever he talked about putting down snow or anything else he loved (such as seeing the children), but she did her best. She thought it was—dare she say it?—kind of adorable when Jack got this enthusiastic about something.

As his explanation drew to a close, Tooth offered her hand for support when Jack made a move to stand up. He grasped it, and Wind swirled around the both of them, lifting them higher into the air.

"So can she come?" Jack asked hopefully, a mischievous glint in his eyes that told her that he would take Baby Tooth with him no matter what her answer was.

Tooth sighed, then flicked his forehead lightly, making him pout. "All right, she can come, you have to take care of her, okay? Her wings aren't that suited to cold air."

The two of them beamed at her response, identical looks of joy on their faces.

"Oh, and be careful!" she added as they flew off.

Jack's carefree laughter and Baby Tooth's elated chirps were the only things carried back to her on the wind.

"We will!"

_"We will!"_

Her arm fell back down to her side, and she sighed, watching two of her most precious children fade into tiny pinpricks in the blue sky. And when they were gone, she reluctantly turned to go back to work.

"The mind may have forgotten, but the heart will always remember," Tooth murmured, gazing at the small waterfall. "You'll get that memory back soon, Jack. Don't you worry."

_It's only a matter of time._


	16. Kitsune-Bi

**A/N: **Um, hi there! It's been a while, hasn't it? ^^; I'm so incredibly sorry—last-minute summer work has had me drowning, and I just haven't had time to update. Time flies so fast . . . I hope this chapter is up to standards.

Anyway, since school is starting again in a few days (bleargh), thought I should leave you lovely people something before I disappear again!

Part of this is based off of one of my favorite animes, _xxxHOLiC. _And I also think it's about time I introduced another person of Jack's seasonal family. :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own RotG.

* * *

**Kitsune-Bi**

* * *

.

**Chapter Summary: **After a very long time, Jack reunites with one of his seasonal siblings. Unfortunately, it's not just a social call.

.

With a contented sigh, Jack stretched out on the tree branch he was sitting in before pulling his knees to his chest. A soft smile played on his lips as he gazed across the horizon, the last few rays of light gleaming across his hometown. Winter was coming to an end soon, and with the arrival of spring—Jack would have to clear out, lest he incite Flora's wrath.

. . . Although, it would be very amusing to see the blonde-haired spirit appear in a burst of flower petals, green eyes flashing as she told off the younger winter spirit for overstaying his season.

The sun sank lower in the sky, shadows quickly creeping along the land—and soon the warm, golden glow was replaced by the silvery light of the moon. Jack enjoyed quiet moments like this as he listened to the animals beginning to stir, the feel of the approaching rebirth of spring beginning to awaken in them.

He had always adored animals.

(_. . . ck!)_

A few years before he was made a Guardian, he'd become very attached to some of them—a fluffy Arctic hare, a colony of penguins, and a warm-eyed polar bear cub and his family to name a few. When Jack was feeling his loneliest, these were who he would seek out for comfort.

His thoughts of his friends somehow seamlessly melded into faint, blurry images that he couldn't seem to recall . . .

_(Jack!)_

Were those dolphins?

_**(Jack!)**_

The winter spirit's eyes flew open (when had he fallen asleep?), and he yelped in surprise as a honey-gold gaze bore into his own, making him scramble back against the tree trunk in shock.

"Honestly, Jack," huffed a strikingly familiar female voice. "I haven't seen you in decades and _that's _how you greet me?"

Eyes of bright blue glanced up at the slender, black-haired girl who was standing on the tree branch with impeccable grace. Her amber eyes glinted teasingly in the faint moonlight.

Jack's face broke into a grin.

"Kasai!"

"Hiya, _otouto!_"

"K-Kasai, what are you even _doing_ here? Summer's not even close to starting in the eastern United States—I mean, not that I'm not glad to see you . . ."

Jack knew he was babbling, but the joy of seeing his seasonal counterpart made him keep talking. He never really get to see Kasai very much (due to a very obvious fact), but he enjoyed being around her whenever he got the chance. Easily his favorite sibling, Kasai was closer to his age biologically (around eighteen), and she was a little more mischievous and reckless compared to the other two seasonals. It made for some very fun pranking.

He had missed her, but he understood why she never really instigated visits if she could avoid it. Kasai had a huge temper, and her magic often responded to such emotions, like all of the seasonal spirits. She never said it aloud, but Jack knew that she was afraid she'd hurt him.

"Jack."

"What?"

The summer spirit pouted. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me _nee-chan? _You did before."

Jack snorted, picking himself up from his sitting position on the tree branch. "Kasai, I was only 56 when we met. I'm 314 now."

"Ah, but still a baby compared to me—I'm your older sister, aren't I?"

"Hey, I'm not a baby!" Jack argued, though he couldn't help but smile after. Siblings were a pain, but he loved them anyway. Was this how Emma felt as the younger child? Even after 300 or so years, it was still a little unsettling that _he _was suddenly the youngest of his family after being used to being the caretaker and not the one being cared for.

Kasai's lips quirked into a smile of her own, her sharp canines glinting. She sat down on the branch, then patted the seat next to her. Jack joined the other girl (being mindful of the sandy tails poking from Kasai's yukata), swinging his feet in the air much like a child would in this situation.

"So why did you come here, Kas?" Jack asked soon after, turning to look at the summer spirit.

She laughed as she folded her hands in her lap. "I knew that you would figure out that this wasn't just a social visit, little brother," she said, her eyes still trained on her her hands. "You see, the truth is . . . I need your help."

Jack was surprised. In addition to her impulsivity and explosive temper when angry, Kasai also held an extraordinary amount of pride. The fact that she put it aside meant that it was something serious. "You mean, _Kasai_, the proud and mighty kitsune, needs _my _help?"

Yup. Kasai, looking almost human in appearance, was a kitsune—a Japanese fox-spirit. They had the ability (after 100 years) to shift into a human form. As a controller of thunder and lightning (like Jack had reign over ice and snow), she was responsible for the strong summer storms, with occasional help from Flora for more rain.

A look of frustration appeared on Kasai's face at Jack's question. ". . . Yes. My _hoshi no tama _was stolen by the Jorōgumo."

His eyes widened. "_Stolen? _By the _Jorōgumo?_" Jack repeated in horror, dumbfounded. "What?"

"Yes! I told you that, so you don't need to go repeating it, you knucklehead," Kasai snapped miserably, her previously-hidden tension and worry showing. ". . . And you were the only one not busy with seasonal stuff, so you were the only one I could ask," she added petulantly, frowning.

Now that Jack was aware of the anxiety his sister was going through, he was able to pick up on the messiness of her normally immaculate braid and the ruffled state of her tails.

"So I was a last-minute option," Jack said dryly before he could stop himself. "Nice." He then winced inwardly as his sarcasm came out at an _extremely _inopportune moment.

_Agh, stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"You know what I mean!" she said indignantly, fire blazing around her body.

With a startled yelp at the sudden appearance of the bright orange flames, Jack toppled backwards out of the tree. Thankfully, the hook of his staff caught onto the branch before he could crash to the ground, but that feeling of momentary terror was still coursing through his veins. He gulped as he swung gently from the wood, his hand trembling as he gripped his staff tightly. His breaths shaky, he slipped to the ground with a light _thump_.

A horrified gasp made him glance up. "I'm so sorry, Jack!" Kasai cried out, her golden eyes wide with panic as she leapt down from the branch. "That's why I didn't want to ask you—"

Jack hastily scrambled to his feet, staff in hand. "Kas, calm down, it's al―"

"How can I 'calm down' when I almost _killed _you?" she shouted.

Jack then pulled the older girl into a hug, trying not to wince at how much warmer she was compared to a normal human or spirit. "It wasn't your fault," he said firmly, pulling away much quicker than he would've liked to due to the discomfort. "I'm fine, okay? And I'm still going to help you get back your _hoshi no tama _from that crazy spider lady," Jack tried to assure her. "I promise. Don't worry."

A small smile. "Thanks, Jack," Kasai said gruffly, still obviously embarrassed by her outright show of emotion. Then she stumbled a little, her hand shooting out to latch onto the sleeve of Jack's hoodie.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, steadying her.

"I'm fine," she replied, the grip on his arm clenching tighter. "We just need to get the _hoshi no tama _back from the Jorōgumo."

Jack frowned as Kasai stepped away. This wasn't good. In Kasai's human form, her _hoshi no tama, _or "star ball," held some of her magical power. In addition, it was her _life force_. The orb was constantly protected by the summer spirit by hanging it around her throat as a necklace, but something must've happened to Kasai before it was stolen by the Jorōgumo or one of her servants for it to be taken so easily.

A torrent of flames then surrounded Kasai's body, and in her place was a sand-colored fox with amber eyes and seven tails. Flying up, she said, "The Jorōgumo is considered the mistress of Jōren Falls in Japan . . . or at least, what I've heard. Let's go."

Her voice was quiet at the last sentence, and Jack felt sorry. He nodded, recognizing the urgency of the situation, and called for Wind, joining Kasai in the air.

* * *

When they arrived at the falls, the sun was shining brightly. Tourists were milling about the area, obviously not able to see the two spirits close by, but Jack still felt uncomfortable when he felt their empty gazes. Kasai had switched back to her human form as soon as they alighted next to the fence surrounding the pool, and now they were both staring at the little waterfall.

"Um, how did you know exactly that the Jorōgumo was the one who took your _hoshi no tama?_" Jack asked, peeking sideways.

A twisted sort of grin then appeared on the girl's face. "How could I _not_ know that it was her_, _after waking up after that huge rainstorm the other day with dead spiders all over my body? That spirit can hold a _serious_ grudge."

Jack shuddered. He hated spiders. "Right. So how do we get to her lair?" he said, changing the subject.

"We dive."

Jack felt a fluttering sensation in his stomach. "Dive," he repeated, trying to quash his panic.

"Yeah," Kasai said, looking at him strangely. "Is there a problem with that?"

"N-no, I'm fine," Jack insisted, turning away. "I'm good."

"If you say so," Kasai said, that strange expression still on her face. She looked back at the roaring waterfall and quickly climbed over the fence, unhindered by the yukata she wore.

Jack dutifully followed, but still eyeing the burbling water suspiciously. _Calm down, Frost, _he then told himself, annoyed at how scared he was. _It's just water. It won't hurt you. Fear attracts Boogeymen—don't be scared. _

Kasai turned back and winked. "See you on the other side." And then she dove in, barely making a ripple.

"All right, you can do this," Jack murmured. "You're a big boy." With a deep breath, Jack threw himself into the water.

Panic immediately overcame him and ice began to coat the surface, but he forced it down and focused on trying to figure out where Kasai had gone. The pond was a little deeper than he expected, but he continued following the kitsune.

Suddenly, it started to become lighter, making Jack become a little confused. They'd been diving deeper into the pond . . shouldn't it be getting darker instead of lighter? But then he somehow broke . . . the surface? And then he gasped and flopped on the sandy shore.

"W-what the heck happened?" Jack said wildly, still a little giddy from his time underwater.

"The pool was a bridge to the Jorōgumo's home," Kasai explained, a weak fire blazing over her skin to dry herself off. "I _did _say that, right?"

"You did?"

She rolled her eyes as the water clinging to him started to freeze, and Jack grinned innocently in response.

"The Jorōgumo's in there," Kasai then said, turning away from him and pointing at the decrepit stone building in the distance. "It's gonna get pretty hairy in a place full of that woman's poisonous miasma, so stay strong, okay?"

Jack nodded firmly, already sensing the danger that was to come.

* * *

The air was suffocating.

Kasai didn't seem to be affected—probably due to the pure nature of her being—but it was making Jack feel dizzy. It only got worse as they went deeper into the dilapidated stone building, and he would've collapsed if it wasn't for Kasai's steady hand on his shoulder.

"Stay strong, _otouto_," she consoled. "We're almost there. Don't pay attention to the poison—just focus on my voice."

Jack mumbled something in response—an argument, maybe?—but the throbbing headache soon chased away any additional fight in him.

"We'll be there soon. I promise."

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and pushed open the heavy stone doors waiting for them. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted with ribbons of white hanging from the ceiling, and an inhumanly beautiful woman sitting almost seductively in the middle of all of the strands.

And with a jolt, Jack realized that the woman was the _Jorōgumo . . . _and that the thick white ribbons were spider silk. He tried to suppress a shudder, but failed as shivers overtook his body. He'd said it before, he'd say it a million times—he _hated_ spiders.

The Jorōgumo smiled when she glimpsed the duo, her dark eyes glittering with malicious intent. "Kasai. How lovely to see you again. And you've brought the winter Guardian with you as well," she noted, crossing her stockinged legs. "He doesn't look too well, does he?"

"Cut the crap—you know what I want!" Kasai shouted in response, fire dancing around her body. "I'm here for my _hoshi no tama_!"

The white-gold orb swung lazily from around the woman's pale throat as she leaned forward. She fingered the chain, her smile not slipping even once. "Do you mean this?"

As Kasai's anger grew, the flames roared, glowing brighter.

"Kasai, calm down," Jack said weakly, steadying himself on his staff. "We don't want to make her—"

And without warning, webs shot down from the ceiling and bound the kitsune, extinguishing the flames and dampening her already-weakened fire magic.

"Kasai!" Jack shouted in panic, ignoring the pain in his body as he limped to her side and tried to tug the sticky strings off of her. When he couldn't, he glared at the Jorōgumo. "Let her go!"

The spider spirit tilted her head, a small smile on her face. "Do you care for her, Guardian?"

"Of course I do!" Jack said, staring at her incredulously. "She's . . . she's my _nee-chan_. And family never abandons each other." He could almost sense Kasai's smile as he then steeled himself and stepped forward, brandishing his staff and only wobbling slightly. "Now give Kasai's star ball _back_," he ordered with as firm a voice as he could, his blue eyes glinting icily.

"And why should I?" the spider queen asked coyly. "The _hoshi no tama_ is the life force of a kitsune. With this, I could control her . . . and even perhaps wreak havoc on those _pathetic _little mortals on the other side of the water."

Jack bit his lip. How could he convince her to release her hold on Kasai's life? His grip on his staff tightened as a plan began to take root in his mind. It was only half-baked, but for now it would do.

"But as you've oh-so-cleverly pointed out, I'm a Guardian," he argued. "Wouldn't _I _have more value than a summer spirit? The Man in the Moon and Mother Nature both have claim over me. I'll exchange myself for Kasai's _hoshi no tama._"

The two spirits stared at each other unblinkingly for a few moments before the spider queen replied.

". . . I hate that," the Jorōgumo said flatly.

"W-what?"

"Do you really believe I would trade something as precious as you claim that this _hoshi no tama _is for something that has no personal value?" she asked, lowering herself gracefully on the ground. "Do you really think that you could exchange something that doesn't mean anything to you for something this important?"

Jack gulped nervously as the Jorōgumo made her way over and tilted back his chin. He forced himself to stay calm—he _had _to get Kasai's _hoshi no tama_ back. "But you are such a cute boy . . ." she sighed. "The power of a Guardian _and _a Lieutenant is nothing to ignore. Jack Frost, you have a deal."

"Jack, no!" Kasai immediately shouted from where the spiderwebs trapped her. "The star ball's not worth your life. We'll think of another way!"

"_Nee-chan_, there _is _no other way," Jack said quietly, knowing that she would be able to hear him anyway with those hypersensitive ears of hers.

"Now, Jack Frost," the Jorōgumo said, "you must give me your name."

Jack's eyes widened. "M-my _name?_" he asked. "But you already know— . . . oh."

The spirit nodded, still quite poker-faced . . . though there was a glimmer of glee present in her features. "Yes."

He was almost tempted to say no right then and there. Jack knew the consequences of handing out his true name, his identity. Legend had it—and most legends were true—your true name held your soul.

But seeing Kasai still squirming in the webs strengthened his resolve. It would be a good trade for Kasai's _hoshi no tama. _

A soul for a soul.

"You'll have to give me the star ball first," Jack said calmly, trying not to make his voice shake.

"Don't trust me, Jack?" the Jorōgumo purred, cupping his cheek gently, her dark eyes mesmerizing.

Jack shut his eyes, shielding himself from the allure of her gaze. "No. I don't," he said forcefully, looking at her. "Now please give Kasai's _hoshi no tama _back. It belongs to her, and she needs it."

Slowly, the spider spirit unclasped the chain from around her neck, the white-gold orb swinging slightly. It seemed to glow brighter now that it wasn't being suffocated by the miasma surrounding the Jorōgumo. Jack stretched out his arm, and the pendant was dropped in his hand. He nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to walk to Kasai.

"Wait, Guardian."

Jack glanced back. The Jorōgumo's arm was outstretched, an innocent smile on her face. "Your staff. To prevent any . . . _backstabbing._"

Jack forced a cheerful grin. "Of course." He surrendered the weapon, trying not to think of how he was once again trading his staff for someone precious to him. Jack walked over to where Kasai was trapped and gently fastened the clasp around her neck. The ball glowed as it was reunited with its owner, and the spider webs around Kasai fell away.

Spider silk then shot down from the ceiling, but the summer spirit quickly transformed back into her fox form and deflected them with her tails. "Jack, grab your staff and go," Kasai whispered harshly as the barrage of spider silk kept raining down. "It's _you _she wants!"

Jack nodded, run-hobbling from Kasai's protection. The thick ribbons turned to chase after _him_ instead, and he tumbled to the side to avoid them. Quickly jumping up, he continued his haphazard path toward the spider spirit, feeling a stinging sensation on his elbow.

He quickly glanced at it, his stomach dropping a little when he saw the hole in his hoodie and his scraped, slightly bloody skin. _Oh, well, _he thought grimly. _I'll just steal Phil's sewing kit when we get out of here._

Jack was getting closer, but the room was getting hotter as Kasai shot fireballs at the webs trying to ensnare the two of them. If it wasn't for his slight frame, his quick reflexes, and the fox-fire, they would've been caught a long time ago. But despite Kasai's good intentions, the flames, heat, and the poisonous air were slowing him down—hopefully Jack would manage to get his staff back before he collapsed.

"I expected this," the Jorōgumo then said coldly. "There was no way you would willingly give yourself up, Jack Frost."

"Like heck I wouldn't!" Jack panted, the exertion from running and jumping and rolling getting to him. "Especially to an old hag like you!"

"I had taken a liking to your power, Jack," the spirit replied with a snarl marring her beautiful face. She stretched out her hand. "But it's quite a shame that seasonal spirits are so _fragile_."

When the next web was shot at him, Jack dove to the side again, but the sticky strand curved at the last minute, wrapping firmly around his torso and binding his arms to his side. He stared blankly in shock as it squeezed tighter around his middle, eventually lifting him up in the air.

Jack struggled weakly before falling limp in the web's hold, finally feeling the exhaustion from the poisonous air and the heavy warmth. He couldn't move even if he tried his hardest.

But then a loud growl made his eyes fly open. Jack didn't even realize that he had fallen unconscious, but almost instantly—he knew that he was in a very grave position. His head was lolling back and feeling unusually heavy, and his throat was exposed and vulnerable. Jack could feel that the Jorōgumo's sharp nail was pressed against his jugular, and a dull sting there told him that the nail had broken his skin, blood quickly oozing from the cut.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack glimpsed that Kasai had transformed back to her human form, and that bright flares of fire were dancing around her body. Her golden eyes held an anger that Jack was grateful wasn't directed at him.

"Don't worry, _Ka-chan_," the Jorōgumo crooned before she poked out her tongue to lick the red droplet off of her finger. "I'll take good care of your precious _baby brother._"

Apparently that seemed to be the last straw for the already tense summer spirit. With a loud yell, her magic blazed in all directions. Jack swayed in the web's hold before a whip of fire tore through his bonds, sending him falling to the ground. Flames were surrounding him as he fell . . .

"_Izumi!_" he heard Kasai scream. The sound of footsteps. "_Otouto, _no!"

Before he knew it, Jack had landed harshly in his sister's arms, and he blinked tiredly up at her.

"We're getting out of here, Jack, okay? You'll be fine," Kasai was saying as she stroked his hair.

"M-my staff . . ."

"Fox fire and spider webs don't seem to mix well, do they," the Jorōgumo said almost fondly as she gazed at the two spirits. Obsidian eyes met scorching amber, and then to the weakened child spirit in her arms. "I suppose it is time for me to take my leave. Kasai, Jack, take care."

The staff fell from the Jorōgumo's fingertips as she vanished, making a clattering sound on the stone floor.

Kasai glared at the spot where the spider spirit disappeared before shifting her unconscious charge onto her back and reaching for the staff that her brother prized so much.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered affectionately as the familiar weight of the orb around her neck settled against the hollow of her throat.

* * *

A small groan escaped Jack's lips as he came to. He slowly sat up, mindful of the headache still present, and found himself leaning against a thick tree trunk.

"You're awake? Thank _goodness . . ._"

Blue eyes sought out the owner of the voice, who was sitting nearby. "Did we get back your _hoshi no tama?_" Jack asked, grimacing at how raspy his voice sounded.

Kasai nodded, procuring the glowing orb from under her yukata_. _"It was all thanks to you."

Jack smiled. "Good." Then a thought occurred to him as he noticed that Kasai was looking at him again with that same expression from before they first dove into the pond. He tilted his head. "Hey. Do I have seaweed in my hair or something?"

She blinked, apparently startled out of her reverie. "What? N-no. I was just thinking. And there's no seaweed in this pond, anyway."

"About . . . how great I was in beating that Jorōgumo for you?" Jack suggested, poking her arm playfully.

"_No,_" she said, looking miffed as she swatted his hand away. "As _I _remember it, I had to save your sorry ass."

Jack stuck his tongue out in response.

"Child," Kasai snorted. Then her face softened as her amber eyes looked gently at him. "It was water, wasn't it," she said with a sad smile.

"What do you mean?"

"How you died."

Jack's eyes widened before he averted his gaze with a hurt expression and pulled his knees to his chest. The look of sympathy that then appeared on Kasai's face was unnoticed by the winter spirit as she lightly hugged him.

"I died in a house fire," she said, a distant look in her amber eyes. "M-my younger brother was with me, too. I . . . I wasn't able to save him."

"What was his name?"

". . . Izumi," she whispered after a few moments. "He meant the world to me."

"I'm so sorry," Jack said quietly. He understood the bond between siblings better than anyone.

"It's all right," Kasai said, a weak smile on her face. "You know, Jack—you remind me a lot of him."

Jack was momentarily stunned. "Do I?" Then he realized. ". . . Oh. So that's why you called me 'Izumi' back in the Jorōgumo's home."

She laughed softly. "Yeah. I'm such a sad excuse for a summer Lieutenant . . . I still haven't gotten over Izumi's death. _He _should've been the one to be brought back. _He _should've survived. Not me."

"It's okay, though," Jack said, rubbing her shoulder. "Even if Izumi _did _die, at least he did knowing that his _nee-chan _loved him."

"You always do know that to say," she said, the twinkle beginning to return to her amber eyes. "I should've told you this sooner."

"That's what I'm here for, Kas—_nee-chan,_" he corrected himself.

"Brat," she said affectionately. "Oh, and I still owe you a favor, don't I?"

Jack blinked. "For what?"

"As tradition, a kitsune must grant a favor to anyone who assists in returning her _hoshi no tama,_" Kasai said, a wicked glint in her eyes.

"And I get to" —he gulped— "to _choose _the favor, right?" Jack asked warily.

"Normally, yes," she conceded, "but you fainted halfway through the mission. So I'll give you the favor myself."

He shrank back as Kasai stood over him, a satisfied smirk on her face. _Oh, no._

"Jack Frost, I'm going to get you over your fear of water!"

Jack's eyes widened.

* * *

**Notes and Translations:**

_**otouto: **_little brother

_**nee-chan/onee-chan: **_big sister

**yukata: **Japanese garment, a casual summer kimono usually made of cotton or synthetic fabric, and unlined. (Thanks, Wikipedia! I had considered a kimono for Kasai, but the word "summer" called out to me, and so I had her wear a yukata. ^^;)


	17. Music is the Voice of the Soul

**A/N: **I'm aliiiiiiive! **MonochromeBlue**'s request really made my inspiration skyrocket, and this oneshot is basically me fangirling about how beautiful the piano is. As a pianist myself, everything that Jack thinks about the instrument are basically my own thoughts, and how I would react. (I will admit, though, I'm not as big a fan of classical music as Jack is. ^^;)

**MonochromeBlue**, I hope you and everyone else enjoys this! (And also, no promises about a close update in the future—classes are honestly in_sane._ I'm neglecting my huge pile of homework for you guys! You should all be thankful. xD)

* * *

**Music is the Voice of the Soul**

* * *

.

**Chapter Summary: **A journey through Jack's past, and how music plays a "key" role in his life after.

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**Year 1720—8 years since Jack emerged from the lake**

It intrigued him.

The sound.

Jack pressed his fingers against the cool glass, frost curling on the window at his touch. A look of wonder was on his face as he watched the man's fingers fly across the keys, and Jack cocked his head as he absorbed the music coming from the . . . the _pianoforte, _he believed it was called.

When the man left the room, Jack cautiously opened the window and landed lightly next to the instrument, placing his staff on the side. He reached out his hand, pale fingers ghosting over the ebony and ivory keys. Filled with a sudden urge, Jack pressed down on one of them, delighted when the note sounded throughout the room. A smile threatening to overtake his face, he eagerly sat down at the bench and placed both hands on the keys, his fingers dancing across them. More "music" filled the small area, and Jack sighed, staring longingly at the sheets propped up on the stand. There were symbols and lines and other words (and was that _Latin?_) scattered throughout the paper, and Jack hadn't the vaguest idea what any of it meant.

He promised himself, though, as he flew out of Padua, Italy, that he _would _learn.

Anything to keep his mind off of the loneliness that he had begun feeling.

* * *

**Year 1850—138 years since Jack emerged from the lake**

The years went on, and Jack was now proud to call himself "proficient," if not excellent, in playing the pianoforte—now simply known as the piano. He had hung around more in Europe after his firm resolve to learn how to play the beautiful-sounding instrument, and lucked out, managing to find a "willing" teacher named Leopold Mozart in Austria.

(If Jack hadn't spent an odd number of years learning random languages out of boredom, he probably wouldn't have been able to benefit as much as he did from these lessons—because it turned out that they spoke German in Austria.)

About a century ago, Leopold had spent much of his time instructing his two children, Maria Anna and Wolfgang Amadeus (which were honestly mouthfuls compared to his own Jack Frost) in the art of music, and Jack was enthralled. He would sit in the lessons, and he learned as quickly as the children did. Besides music, Leopold would teach them a variety of other subjects, and as a result—Jack received a better education than when he first came out of his pond.

When the youngest Mozart died in 1791, Jack left Austria and began traveling again. He had met the spring seasonal, Flora, a few years after his birth, but only met the summer seasonal, Kasai, in 1796. Meeting the two of them made Jack's heart soar, as he realized that he wasn't _really _alone, but had two older sisters watching out for him.

Jack discovered that he had a great ear for music, after being exposed to it for so long. He could sight-read practically any piece (though Jack preferred making up random songs), but there were a few that he dedicated to memory. This range would expand as more and more composers created music that Jack liked.

Also, he was pleasantly surprised to note that the little boy he took piano lessons with was a famous name in the musical world. Jack felt a great deal of pride for him, even though the man had no idea that Jack even existed.

But around this time was when Jack caught wind (haha pun—Jack loved puns) of the idea of the _Guardians_—four immortal beings that protected the children of the world. He practically idolized them, because like them, he loved children as well. He would do anything to keep them safe, happy, and having fun.

It was hard to see the Easter Bunny, because his holiday was in the heart of spring, when Jack would be the deepest in slumber. He promised himself, however, that he would try to see him one day.

The Sandman and Tooth Fairy, however, were even _harder_ to catch a glimpse of. Jack had attempted to talk to the little baby fairies flitting about, but had only gotten a hurried—albeit warm—chirp in return. And the dreamsand showed up every night exactly on time (9:00 p.m.), but he had never seen the maker himself.

So what was a curious young winter spirit to do? Well, to go see the Guardian whose holiday took place in his very own season!

And Jack, being the perfectionist that he was, planned this visit for about a week as he sat next to his pond in Burgess, Pennsylvania. He idly laced another layer of ice over the surface (a habit he'd gotten into), and thought. Should he walk through the front door? Did Santa's workshop even _have _a front door? Maybe sneaking in through a window and surprising him would be a good idea . . . Jack had heard that Santa was friendly.

_Would the elves be kind, too? _Jack wondered as he stood up and stared at the moon. As he looked into the starlit sky, a feeling of bitterness made him bite his lip. Although he'd never admit it aloud, Jack's true intent in visiting the North Pole was to see if Santa knew that he existed. To see if someone besides his seasonal siblings (who were seen rarely) cared.

When Jack woke up the next morning, he untangled himself from his brown cloak and began his flight north. He was feeling quite excited, actually, and he spurred Wind on, to make him go _faster. _Jack whooped in delight, the feeling of the cool, thin air rushing into his face and filling his lungs intoxicating him.

In what seemed like no time, Jack found himself floating nervously above the North Pole. No matter what anyone said, Jack Frost was _not _scared of meeting Santa Claus (or North, as he was more popularly known in the spiritual realm) and screwing up his first impression.

Not at all.

Yup.

Jack dove down toward one of the windows near the top of the building and pushed it open (he really had a lot of luck with windows). He had to squint a little bit as his eyes adjusted to the darker environment, and he gasped in surprise as he realized exactly what _kind _of room he had broken into—

_A music room. _

His staff clattered to the floor as bright blue eyes drank in the sight of what must be a piano covered in a beige tarp in the middle of the large room. Not wasting any more time, Jack rushed to it and pulled off the tarp, coughing at the dust that flew into his face. But as the dust settled, a large grin formed on Jack's features as he took in a gloriously polished, midnight black _grand piano. _

Because of the protective tarp, the piano looked brand new. And—after lifting the cover and pressing a G—was somehow thankfully _in tune. _Jack wasn't entirely sure how to tune a piano, so this was truly a godsend. The sound of an untuned piano made Jack want to cringe.

Jack lifted the lid of the grand piano (they were his favorite kinds because of the beautiful sound that they emitted, but uprights were okay, too!) so that the sound would be louder and less dampened, and sat down on the soft leather-cushioned bench. Jack felt like a giddy schoolgirl as his mind whirled with what song he should play first.

He was _very _partial to Mozart—since he had learned from his father—but he had grown to appreciate other composers' music overtime.

And soon, the sound of the piano began to fill the room. The music swelled, the dynamics giving it _life _and _emotion, _letting Jack just let everything out in this one piece. The notes morphed into another, more somber and quiet, and then into one filled with joy and mischievous staccatos. Jack played on, a soft smile on his lips, until the door flew open with a bang.

Jack flinched, his fingers slipping from the keys, and he turned to face the door. To his surprise, there stood what seemed to be a yeti with a stern look on his face. It (he? She?) growled something unintelligible, and Jack cursed himself for getting so distracted. His main mission was to try to meet one of the Guardians, but had been too caught up in the wonder of playing to realize how much time had passed.

"H-hey," Jack said, slowly standing up and closing the cover over the keys. Backing away to retrieve his staff, he smiled sheepishly and crouched at the windowsill, already poised to take off. "I'm not looking for any trouble, honestly, I just wanted to meet North."

The yeti seemed to understand, but shook its head no.

Jack's heart fell slightly at the dismissal, but kept the bright grin on his face. "Oh, um, okay! And you have a _great _piano by the way, maybe I can come back sometime?"

A nod was sent his way by the yeti, and Jack's smile became less forced. "Really?" he asked hopefully. "Thanks so much!" As he turned to leave, Jack asked another question. "Oh, hey, what's your name?"

The yeti mumbled a series of indistinct noises, but the only thing that Jack could catch was something close the name "Phil."

"All right, thanks, Phil!" Jack called cheerfully. "I'm Jack Frost, but you can just call me Jack. I'll see you soon!"

The newly dubbed "Phil" shook his head and sighed, then padded over the window and closed it, but still keeping it unlocked.

_Jack Frost . . ._ Phil frowned and wondered why he'd never heard of such a spirit before.

* * *

**Year 1935—223 years since Jack emerged from the lake**

Jack broke into the North Pole at least twice a month since that first attempt, most times just to play the piano in the top floor of the workshop. The other half were dedicated to avoiding Phil and finding North. Of course, Jack never succeeded, but Phil always gave him small treats and carried him to the piano room after being caught.

The most recent venture resulted in Jack's cloak being ripped after it got snagged on a pole, and in apology, Phil offered to sew it up. Acquiescing, Jack now found himself sitting patiently on a small wooden stool in his white shirt and vest, watching Phil sew the tear in the aged fabric. And when he got it back, Jack couldn't tell that it had been ripped in the first place.

But it seemed that this wasn't the only gift that Jack was to receive—Phil also held out a simple blue hoodie, gesturing for him to put it on. So Jack did, smiling at how soft and warm (though Jack didn't really need warmth) it was against his skin. The familiar frost patterns began to coat the sleeves, front pocket, and hood the longer it stayed on his body, and Jack found himself liking it more and more. Beaming, he threw his arms around the yeti in thanks, then rushed upstairs on the well-trodden path to the room he loved best in the workshop and placed the repaired cloak on a music stand, where it would stay for quite some time.

But when Jack wasn't visiting his music room and Phil by extension, spreading snow in various countries and giving snow days, or just simply lounging by his pond in Burgess, he was constantly learning new pieces to play.

Sometimes he would go and drop by Carnegie Hall in New York and watch a performance, and when it was over, Jack would go and play the piano himself. He had to be more careful here, though, because—even though it hurt Jack a great deal to think about it—no one was able to see him, but they would probably still see the keys moving on their own and hear the phantom music in the air.

Jack, though considered a prankster by most, was still very kindhearted. A part of him thought it funny to freak the unsuspecting performance-goers out with his piano playing, but the other part of him felt guilty at the thought.

And now that Jack was older, he knew what most of the other spirits thought of him. He had met the Sandman a couple decades back, and Sandy was now privy to the knowledge of seasonal hibernation. Sandy seemed to like Jack, and Jack adored the Guardian in return.

Others, however, resented Jack and his season. As a result, his playing had become more somber, reflecting his dampened mood. Even after being alive for more than two centuries, the Man in the Moon still refused to answer Jack's pleas of _why._

Why was he never satisfied with not being seen?

Jack hated being lonely, but there was still a small spark of pride in his independence, a stubborn streak a mile wide. These feelings made Jack increase his efforts to be seen by the children he played with, but still to no avail.

His name had somehow been released into the world, often being used as a silly moral, but no one ever gave the thought that the "Jack Frost" they talked about was ever _real._

And it hurt.

* * *

**Year 1968—256 years since Jack emerged from the lake**

It was the Saturday before Easter, and for some strange reason, Jack was still awake.

Well, no, Jack _knew _the reason why he was still awake, but it felt weird to see the bright pastel colors of Easter decorations hanging outside of houses instead of the red and green of Christmas.

A week ago, Mother Nature had sent Flora and Jack a double message through Wind, instructing Jack to extend winter, and for spring to begin later. Jack didn't like this, as he knew that the blizzard that Mother intended to happen would fall right on Easter Sunday, but Mother knew best. And it didn't matter what the other spirits thought—the wellbeing of the Earth took priority.

Night fell, and Jack sighed heavily and floated high into the sky. He felt it, the shift in the air that signaled the need for change. With a deep breath, Jack closed his eyes and expelled all of his energy through his staff. Heavy gray clouds quickly formed, promising a few feet of snow. And it delivered. So once all of the necessary elements were fulfilled, and Jack's store of magic was depleted, he fell unconscious, landing in the snow.

Later, Jack was woken up by the shifting of snow, and quick, light footsteps. He quickly got up and hid, bright blue eyes peering from behind a picket fence. His eyes widened upon discovering that it was the _Easter Bunny_, and that he looked _angry._

Guilt pooled in Jack's stomach upon seeing the furious expression on Bunny's face, and he had half a mind to go and apologize, but the hateful words that were spat out of the Easter Bunny's mouth made Jack's heart plummet like a stone.

"_I'm gonna throttle the kid when I get my hands on him. Jack Frost's probably laughin' after ruining my holiday . . . Now I've lost believers 'cause of that stupid spirit."_

Unwanted tears pricked Jack's eyes at the hurtful statement, and once Bunny had left the area, Jack fled as well. He needed comfort, and only Phil and his piano could do that for him.

But to Phil . . . Jack's newest composition had never sounded so heartbreaking.

* * *

**Years 1969-2012—a tumultuous time for Jack**

Jack's cheerful personality was dampened after the Blizzard of '68. Phil was a little worried whenever he heard the depressing strains of music floating through the floorboards of the workshop, and would often come by to offer support (along with a slice of cake). He wasn't entirely sure why Jack had suddenly become so upset, but Phil would do his best to look after the distressed teenager.

But for Jack, the piano provided an escape from his overwhelming emotions. His passion was his distraction.

Jack's old self soon came back after an amount of time, but was more guarded. He became snarky and sarcastic, and took more pleasure in playing tricks on other people. His name soon appeared at the top of the Naughty List every year, ironically becoming recognized by the rest of the Guardians once his previously sweet personality had become a little abrasive. To Phil's sorrow, they thought that his cynical behavior was his true nature.

To Phil, however, that kind boy would appear. His innocence was thankfully still present, and occasionally cheerful music would play in the upper floors of the North Pole.

And Jack's music _stayed _cheerful (with the random emotional piece for fun) after he became a Guardian, and for that Phil was glad. The child that he had gotten to know and comfort for 162 years finally had other people to care for him, and his dream of having believers had finally been realized.

The forgotten child was now loved.

* * *

**December 26, 2013—a little over a year since Jack became a Guardian**

"Where _is _the little bugger, anyway?" Bunny asked, as he lounged in his seat at the long wooden table with the other Guardians as they waited for the yetis to finish preparing Christmas dinner.

"Jack is here," North said thoughtfully, staring at the yetis bustling around. "He has been here since this morning, but I have not seen him since."

"Have you asked the yetis?" Tooth ventured as she sipped her sugar-free hot chocolate.

"Good idea, Toothy," North said, standing up and walking to the kitchen, where he knew he would find Phil—Jack's favorite yeti.

"Phil!" he boomed as he opened the doors. "Have you seen Jack?"

"_In the music room,_" Phil replied distractedly as he took the chicken out of the oven and turned to mash a giant bowl of potatoes. Where the yetis managed to find food, North had no idea.

But North was still stupefied by the answer he was given. "We have a music room? And why would Jack be in there?"

"_I don't know. Jack's been going there for decades, though. Top floor, by the way."_

"Thank you, Phil," the Guardian murmured as he stepped out of the kitchen.

"So where is 'e?" Bunny asked, the three Guardians looking up from their conversation.

"The . . . music room," North said slowly.

"Ooh, I had no idea you had a music room, North!" Tooth said, her eyes shining. "Do you know why Jack's there?"

"Maybe he's singing," Bunny said sarcastically, and Tooth smiled enigmatically in response.

Sandy grinned.

"Well, we cannot have our late Christmas dinner without all of our members present," North declared, gesturing to the others to come along.

So they began wandering throughout the workshop. (North had to wrack his memory for any recollection of a music room, but eventually ended up having to ask a passing yeti for directions.)

They found themselves walking up a staircase, and then they soon began to hear something. North frowned, trying to recognize the sound. It . . . it was—

"A piano," Tooth breathed.

The music was coming from behind a closed door at the top of the stairs, and the four Guardians eyed each other, silently urging them to be the one to open the door first.

In the end, it was Tooth who soundlessly pushed open the door, and the four Guardians stepped softly in . . . to find their very own Jack Frost at the piano and playing beautifully.

"He's pretty good," Bunny admitted quietly with a look of awe on his features that he would later deny vehemently.

North wondered when he had made this room, and it must've been a long time ago because until Phil had mentioned it, he hadn't been aware of its existence. As he listened to Jack blissfully play on, though, he was glad that he was able to create an accidental sanctuary where Jack would be surrounded by the music that he loved.

"Let's go before Jack realizes that we are here," North whispered, tiptoeing out of the room.

Half an hour later, Jack joined the other Guardians at the table. "Sorry," he said, sliding into his seat. "I was just a little caught up in something. Am I late?"

"It's all right, Jack," Tooth said, smiling. "And no, you're right on time."

"Well, that's good," he said, looking relieved as he put a large scoop of macaroni and cheese onto his plate.

They all began to eat, and the Guardians silently came to a conclusion. They wouldn't ask Jack about his piano playing if he didn't mention it. It would be good for Jack to have a private escape—one that he could call his own.

"Oi! Jack, since when could you play the piano?"

Jack's spoon paused midway in its path to his mouth, and he turned to stare at Bunny with wide eyes.

North, Tooth, and Sandy inwardly sighed, sending Bunny pointed looks.

_. . . Or not,_ North thought fondly as he watched Jack turn a light shade of pink and stammer out excuses under Bunny's interrogation.

* * *

**Guest Responses:**

**Guest: **Thank you so much! And well, here's a continuation (though I honestly have no idea when I'll have time to update again). :)


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